Discoveries
by NorbertaTheDragon
Summary: Back to Hogwarts after the war, Draco learns about his Veela heritage over the summer. Hermione discovers that maybe sometimes things aren't always what they seem. A breakout in Azkaban and a new plot forces people to return to war. Meanwhile Draco must bond with his mate quickly before his nineteenth birthday or he'll die. But will it be so easy to woo her? Warning: Abuse&Non-Con.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter just so we're clear.**

Summer was nearing its end, and Draco Malfoy was lounging outside by the river that ran in the grounds of his home, Malfoy Manor. It was his favourite place, secluded by trees, and the thick bushes and wild flowers that graced the place with its sweet scent.

It was where he used to go when Voldemort and his Death Eaters had invaded his home and claimed it theirs. It was where he went to feel calm. Now, the war was over, and the Manor was his, just him, his mother and the house elves. He liked it that way, with his father in Azkaban; he felt peace had finally settled over him and the Manor alike. That was, until recently.

He was lying in the grass, transfiguring unsuspecting pigeons that were perching on trees into owls. He felt it did them a favour. Everyone much preferred owls to pigeons. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, dropping his wand next to him. Why was he feeling this way? There was a word to perfectly explain what he felt and yet he could not pinpoint it. He felt lost, hollow, like a piece of him missing. Mourning for something he had never had in the first place. An utter and deep despair.

Incomplete.

That was the word that evaded him constantly. He felt incomplete, and he did not know what to do. It had started a few weeks ago, though he did not know it, an exact month after his 18th birthday.

He stood; brushing grass he had pulled from the ground in frustration from his clothes, and picked up his broom and wand from the ground.

He decided he would fly around a bit to clear his head before the trip to Diagon Alley he would be making later, in order to buy the books required for the year. All the Seventh Years were allowed to return in September due to recent events to properly complete their education, and Draco had decided to take the school up on the offer.

Not only that, but he had been offered position as Head Boy. In his mind, he definitely did not deserve it, but he figured it was a chance to prove he was responsible, and that he had changed his views and ways, and accepted, despite the guilt that weighed on him after he sent the acceptance letter off, and held the badge in his hand.

He was in the air, thinking, and had not realised how long he had been away from the Manor itself. He had woken early, at around five in the morning and found himself spending little over six hours outside. He only realised how long he'd been out when he saw his mother, Narcissa, come outside, and was calling him down to the ground.

Once his feet were firmly on the ground, he walked up to his mother, whose eyebrows were knitted with worry. Her lips were pursed and she regarded her son with a look of curious concern. Draco frowned quizzically at his mother.

"Draco I think it's time we talked about a few things." She said cryptically. Draco frowned.

"And what would these _things_ be regarding, mother?" he asked. Narcissa frown deepened.

"Your wellbeing, and your heritage," she replied. The latter made Draco scowl. More pureblood supremacy bollocks? He thought that had vanished the day Lucius has been sentenced to Azkaban.

"I think it's best that you come inside and sat down for this, Draco, it's a lot to take in." Said Narcissa as she turned on her heel and made her way through the glass doors back inside. Draco followed, apprehension and curiosity building up inside him.

Narcissa led him to a sitting room, and when Draco entered, she gestured for him to sit in the armchair across from the one she was residing in.

Draco hesitantly sat down, regarding his mother with a curious and questioning look, one eyebrow raised. Narcissa heaved a great sigh before she spoke.

"Draco, I know about how you've been feeling recently." She stated bluntly, and Draco frowned.

"Mother what do you mean?" Narcissa looked slightly pained and impatient.

"You know what I mean, Draco, it's been bothering you for a few weeks has it not? That emptiness. You know you can't deny it, you feel like a part of you is missing. Not to mention the pains you've been experiencing at night." Draco was stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

"How on earth can you know about all this?" he whispered, astonished.

"Because, Draco, I went through the exact same thing. You're not one hundred percent wizard, Draco,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He snapped. Narcissa sighed.

"Draco you're... I don't know how to put this lightly, but... you're part Veela." Draco froze. Shock reverberated through him, keeping him perfectly still, rooted to his seat. Narcissa stared at him, concern etched upon her aristocratic features.

It was a few minutes spent in tense silence before Draco whispered "How?" Narcissa hung her head.

"My mother, your grandmother, along with your grandfather's dormant Veela blood, it made us part Veela. A month after the eighteenth birthday, the Veela blood starts to dominate that of the wizard blood. That's what causes your pains at night. That will pass in about a week. It only lasts a month. Your senses will heighten, especially that of smell. This it to help you find your mate,"

Draco cut her off, fear stabbing through him "Wait a second, my _mate_? What on earth is that meant to mean?" Narcissa raised her eyebrows at her son, amused.

"She is why you are feeling so lost, Draco, because you are not with her. Bonding needs to take place before your nineteenth birthday, or else you will die. She is your perfect match, as chosen for you by your Veela blood. You'll probably have met her before. The telltale signs will be there when you find her, I don't know how to explain it, but you'll just _know_."

Draco was silent for a bit, and Narcissa did not continue, waiting for his response.

"Was father your mate?" he murmured. Narcissa wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Oh heavens, no, but unfortunately pureblood traditions had me betrothed to the man from a young age, and I could not get out of the arrangement," Narcissa lowered her head, looking guilty "I'm not proud, but I did what I had to survive... I had an ongoing affair with my real mate, had I not, I would've gone crazy, or died. That's what happens when a Veela is apart from their mate for a long time. My sisters married their mates, and one ended up cast out, disowned, because of it. Our mother did not care about the Veela mate bond; her prejudices were just too deeply rooted,"

Narcissa looked up at her son after the explanation. Draco was processing everything, churning all this new and astounding information around in his mind, letting it all sink in. He composed himself from his shell-shocked state and sat up, regarding his mother with a poorly executed aloof expression.

"Is there anything else I'll need to know?" he asked, willing his voice not to shake. Narcissa looked at her son pityingly and nodded, seeing right through his mask of nonchalance.

"Before you turn nineteen you will need to bond with your mate. This comes in three steps, the acceptance, the marking and the bonding. The acceptance is when the mate accepts they are yours and accepts that you are to bond with them; this is so the bonding and marking cannot be forced because without acceptance, the whole thing is void. The marking is when you bite your mate, injecting them with venom. This is you showing to the world that your mate is yours and yours alone, along with strengthening the bond and their body ready for the bonding. After the marking you will be able to feel what your mate is feeling and vice versa. The bonding is, well... intercourse. I needn't go into details, but because you're part Veela, the ordeal is a lot more... animalistic, should I say. That's why your venom is used to strengthen your mate's body beforehand."

Narcissa explained this quickly but still making sure Draco was paying attention. He absorbed every ounce of information, nodding every now and then like an obedient student, listening intently to what his mother was telling him. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his white blonde hair.

"Is that all?" he asked weakly. This was a lot to take in, and in such a short space of time. It was like a bomb had landed.

"Mostly, just know that you'll become very, very possessive and protective of your mate. After acceptance, you will know when she is in danger, and even before that you will get angry when another male makes an advance on your mate. You must learn to control that anger, you will perceive a friendly hug between friends as a man trying to take your mate for themselves, you'll need to control and overcome it. The endgame is worth everything though, Draco, I promise you. You'll feel a love like no other, and when you're with your mate it is the best feeling in the world." Narcissa smiled reassuringly at him, hoping he wasn't too upset.

Draco wasn't upset, he was numb. He nodded to and thanked his mother before he stood up and left, his mind elsewhere, his body took control and led him to his room to collapse on his bed.

A Veela? Was this God's way of fucking with him for his previous beliefs about "pure" and "dirty" blood? Because it seemed he was not so "pure" after all. Fuck. And he had to find a mate and convince her to _bond_ with him in little less than a year. What if his mate rejected him, and he died? Draco groaned and sat up, head in hands. He just prayed his mate wasn't someone like Millicent Bulstrode.

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**A/N: Yeah I may or may not have abandoned my other fics. I had no actual plot for them and was making it up as I went along. Really it was practise. However I do promise to do something with this. For one, I actually know what the fuck is going to happen, and another, my GCSEs will be over in a few weeks and then I'll have a lot of free time to avoid socialisation and write this. Okay cool, sorry for abandoning the other shit, you can review if you want I don't really mind, a story follow is enough, but if you wish to let me know what you think then don't hesitate. ALSO IF I MAKE ANY MISTAKES REGARDING CHARACTERS, DETAILS SPELLING AND/OR GRAMMAR PLEASE LET ME KNOW OKAY THANK YOU. ~cha cha slides away~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**A/N: Alright so this is mainly a filler chapter, so keep an open mind, the writing is a bit jagged and stop-start but bear with it okay thanks. Also there will be some grammar/spelling things that are different here in the UK than in the US, this goes for the whole thing so yeah just go with it if you're unfamiliar with it, and if there's British slang or a word you don't understand, (thing like tap/faucet and aubergine/eggplant - somehow I don't see the last one appearing in this fic but you get the jist) don't hesitate to ask ok cool. ON WITH THE SHOW.**

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Hermione Granger was spending the last couple of weeks of summer at the Burrow. She rather enjoyed spending time with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. It would've been nicer if Ron wasn't always pouting at her like a child that didn't get their way.

See, after the adrenaline and euphoria of the Battle had died down, Hermione had realised hers and Ron's kiss was nothing more than a mess of heightened emotions and the very strong possibility of death looming over them. Hermione had spent a month with Ron, so as not to hurt his feelings, before she had told him the truth of the matter, one night when he was complaining about her being a "selfish prude" for not wanting to have sex with him. Hermione had been pissed off with him, to say the least, and Ron felt similarly.

It had taken a few weeks for the hostility to die down, and for them to be in the same room without an argument breaking out. It was these weeks Hermione spent the majority of her time at her own home, removing a year's worth of dust and cobwebs, wishing she was able to go to Australia to fetch her parents, but she knew it had to wait until after her year at Hogwarts which she would spend finishing her education. The politics of the situation annoyed her and the Ministry's refusal to let her recover her parents until after everything was sorted had her sending a couple of Howlers, despite the fact she knew it was the wisest thing to do.

Hermione and Ginny were sharing a room and were quickly getting dressed and ready to go to Diagon Alley in order to collect school equipment. Hermione was extremely excited to be able to finish her NEWTs, and more so about the fact she had been made Head Girl. Needless to say, Harry and Ron weren't quite as enthusiastic as she was, but had accepted the offer nonetheless.

"You ready Gin?" Hermione asked the redhead as she hurriedly tied up her shoelaces. Ginny rummaged through drawers in search of something, until she pulled out a small purse triumphantly and hastily stuffed it in her bag.

"Yeah I'm all set," she paused "Hey, Hermione?" Hermione looked up from her shoes and at Ginny, whose eyebrows were furrowed.

"Yeah, Ginny?"

"What do you think Hogwarts will be like now? I mean... after the war and all?" Ginny asked her. The question had bothered Hermione as well and she honestly wasn't sure. Hermione shook her head.

"I don't know, I can only say that I hope to Merlin it's better than the previous year." She smiled and Ginny chuckled.

"Yeah well there's no question about that. I don't think it can get any worse. It's just... it's not going to be the same, is it? You know, as before?" Hermione pursed her lips in thought before pushing a stray curl behind her ear and sighing.

"No, Gin, it probably isn't." Ginny nodded, her face impassive. There was a moment of sad silence before Hermione planted a grin on her face.

"Hey, we don't want to keep everyone waiting now do we? Let's go downstairs, I can't wait to see Diagon Alley again." She enthused and Ginny smiled at her.

The two girls made their way downstairs to the fireplace where Harry, Ron, Molly and Arthur were waiting.

"Come on girls we haven't got all day." Said Molly hurriedly who started fussing with Ginny's cloak and hair. Ginny frowned and stepped back from her mother.

"Mum, I'm not a child!" she huffed, crossing her arms "We're here now, so why are we standing around?" Harry chuckled and Molly rolled her eyes. She threw the powder onto the fire, calling out their destination and her and Arthur stepped into the green flames. The four teens quickly followed suit and soon they were all on the other side.

After a trip to Gringotts, Everyone hurriedly split off to get their things, wishing to get everything quickly so they had more time for leisure shopping. Hermione decided to leave Flourish and Blott's for last, due to the fact she'd be spending most of her time in the bookshop, maybe buying a few to read for fun, browsing through the vast and glorious selection. She smiled at the thought.

So, with bags laden with everything she would need for the upcoming school year, Hermione happily made her way towards Flourish and Blott's.

During the war Diagon Alley had become desolate and cold, simply an echo of what it had used to be. Now, Diagon Alley was making its way towards what it used to be before the war, the warm and inviting place Hermione first visited all those years ago.

With a grin on her face, Hermione entered the familiar bookshop and took a deep breath and looked around the shop, eyes hungrily feasting on the large collection of books. Information, stories, new things to be discovered all hidden within the bindings of the stacks upon stacks of books. Hermione was content. _Now this,_ she thought, _is bliss. _

Hermione knew her way around the shop easily and with the help from the list she had in her Hogwarts letter, Hermione had quickly found everything she needed for the school year. She dumped the pile of books onto the desk and smiled at the clerk, fishing through her purse for the correct change.

With her school books now paid for and bagged, Hermione was satisfied with the time she now had to browse through the magnificent collection of books, run her fingers along the spines, rifle curiously through the contents, inhale the alluring aroma of the pages. Yes, the bookshop would easily take first place as Hermione's favourite place in the world.

As Hermione was browsing in a section about magical creatures, she found herself bumping into an extremely tall and distracted pureblood. She scowled. Malfoy. She didn't need his taunts and snide comments to ruin her day. She ignored his presence and waited for him to make a jibe at her blood status or make a rude comment about her hair, but he didn't say anything. Instead the blonde just stared at her as if he'd never seen her before in his life. His eyes were wide and shocked.

Hermione was growing uncomfortable; she kept staring at the books in front of her but wasn't really looking at them, distracted by the blonde's incessant staring. Hermione kept peeking up at him with sideways glances but still he had not moved, looking at Hermione quizzically, and his brows furrowed with puzzlement. Hermione noticed his hair had gotten lighter over the summer, now an almost white colour, and was no longer slicked back but instead falling in front of his eyes, eyes which Hermione had never noticed before. They were _silver_. How anyone's eyes could so resemble unicorn's blood she had no idea, but this intense staring was freaking her out. She turned and faced him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she snapped, hands on her hips. Malfoy blinked once, twice, and seemed to be shaken out of his reverie; he scowled and looked down at Hermione.

"Granger?" He asked, confused. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What? Am I so beneath you that you have decided to not even recognise me any more? Yes it's me, Hermione Granger, the one that punched you in third year for being a prick and who you take such pleasure in tormenting. Remember me now?" she smirked up at him, an eyebrow raised. Malfoy looked extremely distracted and bewildered, like he was only half listening. He blinked again and his eyes seemed to lose their sheen. Huh, weird.

"Um, yeah, I remember you uh sorry I was – uh – looking for a book, didn't mean to bump into you um yeah found it," he took a book from the shelf "Okay see you, Granger." He hurried away. Hermione raised her eyebrows at his retreating back. Wow, had he been flustered _and _polite? Had Draco Malfoy been replaced by eleven year old Neville? She shook her head and looked to see which book he had been looking for.

_Understanding Veelas _

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. Why was Draco Malfoy acting like a flustered schoolboy and buying books on something that wasn't even on the school curriculum? Whoever this Malfoy was, Hermione was unfamiliar with him.

_Well, at least I won't have to spend too much time around the prejudiced twat in school_, she thought.

Oh, the irony.

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**A/N: Yeah as I said before, this chapter is a bit of a filler. Okay so I'm not good at updates due to the year-long writers blocks I am prone to (as you may be able to tell from my other abandoned fics oops) but I hope to update this once or twice a week. If I don't, you have permission to track me down and slap me. Oh and to the guest that asked who is/what happened to Narcissa's mate, you'll find out soon, faaaab. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I'm sure you already knew that.**

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Draco was shocked to the core. Never in his life had he felt like that. It was like a series of electric shocks had travelled through his blood and settled in his heart, and kept going. His whole body was on fire, and his mind was working at a thousand miles an hour.

He had been in Flourish and Blott's looking for some Veela book his mother wanted him to get. He'd already bought his school books but somehow when they were actually _in _the shop his mother had forgotten about the book she claimed would be oh-so-very helpful, so Draco was made to go back and fetch it before he and Narcissa went to meet up with Blaise and his newly married (again) mother, Miranda. How anyone could marry her, given her reputation for dead husbands, was beyond Draco.

He had been in the magical creatures section when he'd bumped into a temperamental brunette, and static had taken over Draco's body, and the sweet aroma of vanilla had enveloped him. He had been rooted to the spot, staring at the girl who had caused this overwhelming effect. He immediately knew this girl was his mate but somehow could not recognise her. She had soft brown curls, eyes the colour of whiskey framed by thick lashes, and smooth creamy skin. He longed to wrap his hands in the girls curls, stroke her soft skin and press his lips against her own. He had no idea what to think, what to do. He was hypnotised by the scent of his mate, by the beauty, it was if he had been struck by lightning. He saw nothing but her.

She had been wary of Draco, and he'd realised this, and was confused. He did not know what to make of the girl, but he simply took her all in, his Veela instincts building up in his chest, about to burst and make him kiss the girl right there and then, just before his bubble of awe was broken and the girl turned on him.

Shaken out of his trance, Draco slowly started to recognise who this girl was, and when the stone dropped, so did his stomach. His immediate thought was _fuck_.

"Granger?" he said, incredulous. He did not want to believe what his instincts and brain was telling him. He knew Hermione Granger, mudblood war heroine, best friend of Harry Potter, girlfriend to the ginger Weasel, victim of his own ruthless taunts in the previous years, was his mate._Well fuck me backwards with a broomstick I'm screwed._

She put her hands on her hips and Draco couldn't help but notice the curves that were usually so well hidden by Hogwarts school robes. The delicious smell of vanilla was like a drug and his mind was turning to mush, his brain activity interrupted by her scent.

She accused him of forgetting who she was, and smirked up at him. Draco had to shake his head again, all his Veela wanted to do was stare at her, well and fuck her but he managed to keep a firm hold on that particular urge. He could almost hear his Veela whine as he drew his eyes away from her body and he spluttered out some pathetic ramble of words he didn't really pay attention to before picking up the book and quickly getting the fuck out of there.

He hadn't realised he'd managed to get to the small café his mother was sat, chatting to a beautiful woman and a tall Italian, looking quite at ease. When Narcissa saw Draco approach she waved at him and he quickly sat down. Blaise raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. His mind was reeling and he was in a daze. He didn't even remember leaving the shop.

"Draco, dear, I was just telling Miranda and Blaise about your recent transformation," Draco widened his eyes "Oh don't worry, Miranda is a dear friend of mine and has known for a long time, and I know how close you are with Blaise so I figured it wouldn't matter." She waved her hand dismissively, sipped at a cup of tea and smiled. Draco rolled his eyes at her and Blaise gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Wow, so you're part Veela," he laughed "Oh remember how you went on about how half breeds are disgusting and wrong when that Hippogriff sliced you up. Oh I wish I could go back in time to tell you about this, just see the look on your thirteen year old face." Blaise was grinning and Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're finding this way too amusing for your own good." He said, reaching for a scone from a pile in the middle of the table. Blaise nodded.

"What do you expect? You were always a brat who went on about purity and you're not even a proper pureblood yourself!" Blaise snorted and shook his head, laughing. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes, how very funny and ironic now let's talk about something not involving my so-called impurity, shall we?" Draco smirked at his friend "Like your new step-father, how's he coming along? Do you play Quidditch in the garden? Has he given you the birds and the bees talk yet?" Blaise raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

"Oh clever Draco, another step-father quip, very original," he said sarcastically, leaning back "And you know perfectly well I know plenty about the birds and the bees to give any step-father a talk of my own." He smirked and Draco grimaced.

"Yeah you've already given me enough details to last a lifetime, most of which I didn't need nor want to know, cheers mate." Blaise laughed, eyes twinkling mischievously. He leaned forward again.

"Seriously though, what are you going to do to find your actual mate? What if she's not at Hogwarts, would you have to search the globe for her or what?" Draco paled, the reality of Granger being his mate hitting him in the gut.

"Uh, no, she's at Hogwarts," he muttered weakly. Blaise raised his eyebrows.

"And how do you know that?" he asked, curiosity etched in his features. Draco winced slightly, knowing that his Veela blood's choice of mate could very easily end up with him dying of heartbreak.

"Because I know who she is." He murmured, biting into a scone. Blaise barely heard what he said but he heard nonetheless. His eyes widened and he grinned.

"Well that's the hard part over! Good on y', mate, now spill, who is she?" he asked, brown eyes twinkling with curiosity. Draco grimaced and kept chewing on the large bite of scone a lot longer than was necessary before swallowing. He pursed his lips and glanced warily at Blaise, who was still studying him intently. Draco set his scone down on his plate and leaned back. It was several moments before he said anything.

"Blaise, the hard part is definitely not over," he said cryptically. Blaise frowned slightly.

"What do you mean, now all you have to do is woo and bed her right? That's never been too difficult for you before," Draco winced slightly and Blaise raised an eyebrow "Wait; hold on, has your mate got brains, self worth and common sense because in that case you have no chance." He smirked. Draco huffed and put his head in his hands.

"Worse," he groaned before looking up at the confused Italian "It's Hermione fucking Granger."

Blaise's eyebrows shot up and there was a moment of silence before he burst into bellowing laughter.

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**AN: this could've been a lot better but hey ho okay I'm not going to be updating for at least a week - I have 5/7 of my last exams over the next week and I actually give a shit about a couple of them so I'm not going to be writing much so I leave you with this tidbit.**

**By the way, I know it's a sort of cliché plot but idk sometimes I like the clichés and I can't be the only one right? Also there will be a bit of Ron bashing later don't get me wrong I actually love Ron in the books but yeah Ron will be OOC.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, as you are most probably well aware.  
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**AN: Okay so it seems I've found myself in a state of insomnia. It's currently 5:09 am and I have a new chapter for you. It seems I lied about not updating oops. But I'll probably not be updating until after next Monday because that's my second to last exam so woo. (My last exam is after my prom wow life's hard). You probably actually don't care about all this bullshit I'm spouting at you. This is a long chapter for me, savour it. Okay, ONWARDS.**

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Hermione walked out of Flourish and Blott's, bags laden with books, her mind still boggling over Malfoy's flustered state. She had no idea why the thought of Draco Malfoy being so unlike his usual proper and arrogant self both amused and intrigued her, yet she couldn't help but wonder what on earth could discompose Draco Malfoy, of all people.

She found Ginny, Harry and Ron at the café they'd agreed to rendezvous, and they waved her over to their table. She grinned and sat down, dumping her many heavy bags on the floor with a huff before ordering herself a cup of tea. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know the entirety of Flourish and Blott's was on the Hogwarts list this year." He teased, grinning. Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled at him.

"No matter how many times you recycle that joke, Harry, it will never be funny." She smirked at him. Harry let out a short laugh.

"Oh you know you find me hilarious really. Ginny does, right Gin?" he leaned back and looked at his girlfriend, grinning boyishly. Ginny snorted.

"If I say no will you withhold sex?" she asked, smirking. Ron spluttered and tea came out of his nose. Hermione suppressed a snigger. Whilst Ron wiped his nose with a napkin, Harry raised his eyebrows at Ginny.

"Yes, yes I would." He said, feigning sincerity. Ginny tapped her chin with her finger, mocking a pondering expression.

"No." She said, grinning at Harry. He pursed his lips childishly and Hermione snorted.

"Fine, no sex for you, see if I care," he drank from a mug of black coffee "And no neck massages either unless you admit that I am utterly charming, handsome, witty, and a better fuck than Dean Thomas." This time Ron had the misfortune of eating a custard slice as Harry said this and found himself choking, with Ginny thumping him on the back.

"That's my sister, Harry!" he protested once he'd recovered. Harry smirked.

"Oh yeah I forgot about that, well you won't want to hear about that time we had whipped cream and hand cuffs, and we–" Harry was cut off by Ron half squeaking half shouting in protest, covering his hands with his ears. Harry and Ginny laughed, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. Hermione shook her head at them.

"Don't you think you two torture him enough?" she asked, looking at the couple with both an amused and disapproving look. Ron continued to make childish noises and kept his ears blocked. Ginny shrugged.

"Hey why should you care, he was an absolute dickhead to you, consider this payback." She winked at Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, I've told you, I don't care anymore, I've gotten over it. If he wants to believe I'm a prude then so be it," she glanced at Ron, who was still making himself oblivious to the conversation. "Besides, he doesn't have to know it was just him I don't want to fuck." She said, and this time it was Harry's turn to choke on his drink. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"They like to pretend that we –" she was cut off by the voice of none other than Blaise Zabini from the table next to them yelling.

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE SHUT OFF THAT GOD DAMN GINGER. I DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF ALARM HE THINKS HE IS BUT I'M GOING TO GO INSANE." They all jumped and Ginny quickly nudged Ron's arm forcefully, and he stopped the loud repetitive racket he had been making and pulled his hands away from his ears cautiously.

"Is it over? Are you going to try to traumatise me again?" he asked wearily and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Honestly Ronald you're so dim sometimes it amazes me how you get yourself dressed in the morning without causing yourself serious injury. It was over as soon as you started acting like a crazy person that had escaped from St Mungo's." Ginny shook her head at her brother and turned to Hermione.

"So, what do you think the Head's dorms will be like?" she asked interestedly. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Wait there are separate dorms for Head Boy and Girl?" she asked incredulously. She had never heard this before. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Well of _course_ they're half the reason anyone wants to be Head Boy or Girl. They're meant to be _amazing_ but only Heads are allowed in I think. It's meant to be so that they spend enough time together to do their duties. You'll be spending a lot of time in close proximity with the Head Boy oh I wonder who he is you could very easily end up doing it." Ginny waggled her eyebrows and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh get your mind out the gutter, Gin," She scolded. "It won't be like that it's a _professional _relationship." Ron snorted.

"Yeah besides, Hermione's totally frigid she'd never do anything like that." Ginny raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who suppressed the anger boiling up and clenched her fist. She gave Ron a tight smile.

"Yes Ron's right," she said through clenched teeth "I have a fucking lock and bar on my knickers and a hug is just taking things way too far." Sarcasm and anger was rolling off her in waves like a tsunami and Harry and Ginny glanced warily at each other. Ron frowned at Hermione.

"Hey there's no need for that I was just saying that a prude like you wouldn't be having casual sex with the Head Boy." Hermione narrowed her eyes and her lips were clamped into a thin line.

"Maybe I'm not a prude, Ron. Maybe you just weren't enough to satisfy me." She practically hissed at him. Before Ron, Ginny or Harry could react, Hermione heard someone choking and a clatter from the table next to theirs and she glanced over to see Draco Malfoy clutching his throat and choking on a scone. Blaise Zabini next to him smacked him on the back hard, and Malfoy quickly recovered, and Hermione then realised that he was _laughing_.

Hermione couldn't tell whether he had heard the conversation or if he was laughing at something else entirely, but something told her he was laughing at what she had said to Ron. She frowned, remembering his strange behaviour in Flourish and Blott's and turned back to her friends, who were staring at Hermione with wide eyes.

She sighed and quickly gulped the lukewarm remainder of her tea and pushed her chair back, stooping to gather the bags of school supplies.

"If you don't mind," she said to her friends "I'm going to go to my house for a bit, I just remembered I need to sort out a few things. I'll be at the Burrow tomorrow." She left some money for the tea before rising from her seat.

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to come with you?" Ginny asked, already knowing the answer. Hermione smiled at her friend.

"I'm alright thanks. Oh tell Molly and Arthur sorry for leaving so suddenly. See you tomorrow." She waved at them before hurriedly leaving the café.

She had no idea why she felt the need to leave her friends so quickly; she just felt the overwhelming urge to get away, to be by herself. Why had she suddenly let Ron get to her again? She'd already been through this and they had resolved it, so why was she so angry and upset?

She walked briskly to the Leaky Cauldron so that she could floo home. She was about to throw the powder into the fireplace when a hand on her arm stopped her. She tensed and turned around to face Ron.

"Hermione I'm sorry, that was... unnecessary, but hey you shouldn't be alone, why don't I come with you, maybe we could patch up our friendship a bit. You could show me some of those noovies you were telling me about on the Telebisson" He smiled at her hopefully, and she relaxed a bit, softening her glare.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt, after all, we don't want this awkwardness between us forever right?" Ron beamed and Hermione gave him a small smile before throwing the powder into the fireplace, giving her address, so she stepped in and was taken to her childhood home.

* * *

Draco had tensed up as soon as he felt her walk through the door. He knew she was near, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, his eyes took on a tell-tale silver sheen, and something in his mind and body gave a faint _ping _to tell him his mate was close. Her scent was overwhelming and it took every ounce of self-control to not pounce her in the café right there and then.

Blaise noticed his friend's behaviour and raised an eyebrow, looking around and spotting the Gryffindor. He looked warily at Draco and saw that all his friend's muscles were tensed up, his fists were clenched and he was hunched over his tea, taking shallow breaths.

Blaise had been teasing Draco prior to Granger's arrival about how he would have to woo the muggle-born witch who had made her dislike of Draco well known in the years they spent at Hogwarts together. He also liked to point out that had Draco not been a prejudiced prat in the past he might not have bullied Granger at every chance he got, and he would not be in this predicament. Draco had simply responded with a disgruntled grumble about how Blaise should become a comedian, clearly not amused by his friend's teasing.

"So no teasing about Granger now that she's sat on the table next to us." Blaise huffed, disappointed. Draco took deep breaths in an attempt to calm his Veela self. It was about five minutes until he managed to relax a bit, and he knew he wouldn't make any rash decisions to try to ravage Granger. Her scent was still suffocating him but he could work through it.

Draco only half paid attention to the conversations he was having with Blaise. They were discussing Quidditch but he found himself listening into the conversations Granger was having. He found himself hearing way too much about Potter's love life until suddenly the Weasel had started up a sound he could only describe as the mating call of idiots. This went on for a while and during this he could not hear anything Granger was saying, which frustrated him.

"Does Weasley want to shut the fuck up?" Blaise grumbled. Miranda slapped his arm lightly.

"Although I agree that he should cease that awful din, you've got to mind your language, Blaise! It's unbecoming." She scolded before turning back to avid conversation with Narcissa. Blaise looked at his mother incredulously before turning to an amused Draco.

"So she doesn't hear anything I say about Granger but she manages to hear one sentence I said with a _lowered _voice, and over the god awful racket that Weasley is making – oh for crying out loud WILL SOMEONE PLEASE SHUT OFF THAT GOD DAMN GINGER. I DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF ALARM HE THINKS HE IS BUT I'M GOING TO GO INSANE." He belted out, sighing with relief when finally the Weasley stopped his ridiculous commotion.

Draco was content now; he could hear Granger's conversations again. He wasn't at all surprised to hear that she was Head Girl. Honestly if she wasn't right for the role of Head Girl then no one would be. He listened more intently when the Weasley girl mentioned the close proximity of Head Girl and Head Boy.

Blaise had noticed his friend was blatantly paying no attention to him and had given up. So he watched, amused, as Draco eavesdropped on his mate's conversation.

Draco could tell Weasley had hit a sore spot and was intrigued. Weren't they the golden couple or something? His heart leapt at the prospect of her availability, though he knew that was only a small hurdle. The hardest part was yet to come.

He took a large bite of his scone, and found himself choking at Granger's next retort to Weasley. In all honesty he had no idea the girl had it in her, and once he had recovered his coughs had melted into laughter, and he noticed Granger looking at him curiously. She frowned and turned back to her friends.

Draco calmed down now and noticed Blaise watching him, entertained. Draco pursed his lips.

"What?" he asked defensively. Blaise raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's probably best if you don't stalk your mate and instead do the traditional shit to get her to bond with you. You know like take her on a date, instead of watching her with binoculars through a window." Blaise smirked as he watched Draco frown.

"Oh shut up." He said, unable to defend his actions. Really, he had no idea why he had listened into her conversations, and he knew it was weird, and creepy, but he couldn't help it. She was intriguing. She was intoxicating. She was... gone. Draco realised that the scent that had recently overpowered him was now only a lingering trace.

He turned and noticed she had left, and so had the Weasel. He frowned at this and noticed her friends looked slightly worried. _Damn. _He cursed himself. What on earth had happened to make them look like that? He huffed and sank into his chair, crossing his arms, resisting the urge to follow the trail her aroma most probably had left.

He shook his head of the thought. _Wow_, he thought _Blaise is right, I am turning into a stalker._

* * *

**AN: Tell me if I make any mistakes or annoying grammatical errors that I can correct for the rest of the fic. Also if you think there's a way that I can improve my writing feel free to let me know, constructive criticism is welcome yo. Sorry if the writing's kind of bad I wrote this at like 3 in the morning go with it. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**AN: I don't know if I like this chapter if I'm honest with you. Contains mild abuse and shit. It's not overly horrific but I'm just warning you just in case. Thanks for the reviews woot you kind people.**

**Okay so on with the show I guess.**

* * *

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace into a dining room, brushing soot from her clothes and stepping out of the way for Ron. She felt slightly apprehensive now that she thought about it. Why did she agree to let him come over when she wanted to be alone? She was still mad at him for what he had said to her so what was she thinking? What was up with her today? Hermione shook these thoughts from her head and just decided to humour Ron and watch some movies. Or "noovies", as he called them.

Ron grinned at her when he stepped out of the fireplace and she sent a half-hearted smile back before retreating into the lounge to turn on the telly and pull a plastic box out from in-between the television and the wall.

Ron walked in to see Hermione crouched next to a box full of DVDs. Hermione turned around and smiled slightly.

"What would you like to watch?" she asked him, and he frowned.

"I didn't know there were so many of these things." He said, seeing the vast collection of DVDs Hermione owned. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's a big industry in the Muggle world, Ronald," she said before looking back to her collection, "Okay we have romance, comedy, horror, action, drama and a few others. Those are the genres and they'll be a theme throughout the film so basically..." she looked back to see Ron with a blank expression and she bit her lip "I think I'll just pick one."

Not paying attention to her choice, she picked a random DVD and placed the disk into the DVD player and darted to the sofa, using the remote to turn the television on and then gesturing for Ron to sit down.

Ron did sit. He sat right next to Hermione, despite the excess of room on the large sofa. Hermione moved away from him a bit, growing uneasy by the closeness and pressing herself up against the armrest. She would make a remark about personal space but she didn't want to upset him now that they'd agreed to give their friendship another try. She wanted to be able to forgive him, to let it all go, and she didn't want a petty argument to get in the way of that.

The title screen came up and Hermione saw to her horror she had put on the sappiest DVD she owned: _The Notebook._ She inwardly groaned but kept her face expressionless as she pressed play and leant back, attempting to ignore the proximity between her and Ron.

Ron was transfixed by the television. Hermione glanced at him and saw his awed expression.

"I thought Muggle pictures didn't move." He said quietly. Hermione chuckled.

"Well Muggles have their own way of doing things for entertainment, without magic. Telling a story through sound and moving pictures is one of them." She watched Ron apprehensively. She was tense, despite their previous arrangements for friendship. She didn't like how close he was and she didn't like how she still couldn't shake the uneasiness that came whenever she was around him. Sure, he had pissed her off, sure he'd insulted her, but she didn't think that should be reason enough to feel so uncomfortable around him.

She couldn't pay attention to the film, distracted by her mind going at a hundred miles an hour. More than anything she wanted the film to be over and for Ron to leave. She wanted time to herself and Merlin she was angry. She mulled her anger over in her head and wondered how long that had been buried. She'd never really gotten over what Ron had said to her, how he'd treated her, despite everything she claimed. He'd made her feel guilty for not wanting to have sex with him, humiliated her by calling her a prude, he'd been almost forceful when lying in bed with her, pushing himself on her before she'd kicked him off and he'd come to his senses.

Yes, Hermione was angry. Hell, she was _pissed_. And the person who she was angry at was sat next to her without a centimetre gap, invading her personal space and casually draping his arm around her – wait when did that happen? Hermione panicked. No, he was not going to try anything; this was all about reinstating friendship and getting over past differences and awkwardness, right? Oh Merlin what if he had an ulterior motive? No, it's Ron, he thinks of her as a prude, untouchable, avoid at all costs.

And yet here they were in uncomfortable closeness and his arm lazily lolling around her shoulders. She didn't know what to do, her mind was racing and she was silently panicking, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead. She felt like she was suffocating he was so close to her.

It was when she was like this, thinking so quickly and frantically that the film was a blur to her, when Ron turned her head, attempting a gentle and soft touch but achieving a clumsy and too firm grip on her chin, pursing her lips involuntarily.

She blinked and he quickly planted his lips on hers, seeing her gasp of shock and horror as an invite to stick his clumsy tongue in her mouth and rummage around. Her eyes were wide open and her body rigid with shock. Fiery anger grew in her eyes and Hermione pulled herself from her paralysis and pushed hard at Ron's chest. But he didn't budge, wrapping one hand in her hair, tugging painfully, and groping her body with the other, kneading her breast.

Hermione wiggled and tried to pry herself from his grasp but that only egged him on. Panicking now, Hermione kicked his shin, causing Ron to pull away and cry out in pain.

"Fuck! What was that for you fucking bitch?!" he yelled at her. Hermione glared at him and stood up, distancing herself from him.

"How dare you?! How can you even have the audacity to try something like this and then fucking keep going even when it's clear I am _not enjoying myself_! I was pulling away and struggling you dick! Get the fuck out and don't even _think _I will try to be friends with you after this!" she shrieked at him. Ron stood up, glaring down at her, and he took a step forward, a manic look in his eye. Suddenly, he struck her, catching her off guard. Hermione gasped and looked back at Ron, too shocked to feel the pain that came from the blow. _He'd hit me_. No other thought processed.

"What, so because I try to be romantic and nice and you're just being a prude stuck up little bitch as always, you're blaming me?" without warning, he grabbed Hermione's hair and tugged, pulling her face up close to his, eliciting a moan of pain from her "Fucking idiot bitch you don't understand anything, you need to be _taught _a couple things about that crazy oh-so mystical thing you've never heard of called sex! Do you even know what sex is? I fucking doubt it. Maybe one day I'll teach you, dumb bitch. But because I'm a gentleman and obviously the bigger man, I'll leave you for now," he shoved her away from him by her hair and she fell, causing her to hit her arm on the corner of the coffee table. She cried out in pain from the floor and looked back fearfully at a manic Ron.

"Oh and I wouldn't mention this to anyone if you want to keep your life. Bye, bitch." He said harshly before spitting on her and exiting the lounge to floo out of her house, leaving her there on the floor in a state of shock, clutching at her cut and bruised arm. After a few minutes of numb paralysis, Hermione broke down into sobs, pulling her knees in and hugging them tight to her. She'd never thought Ron would do anything like that. She knew something had snapped. Something had changed from the original verbal abuse. This was a lot more hysterical, and the look in Ron's eyes was none Hermione had ever seen before. He'd threatened to _rape _her, something Ron never would have done before.

No, this was different. He acted like a man possessed. His passive aggression had morphed into violence. He'd caused her physical and emotional damage and threatened to kill her if she told. Hermione shuddered. She never wanted to see Ron again, but she knew that it was a pipe dream. They were meant to be best friends, there was no avoiding him. But Hermione was scared that if she spent time with him, he might go over the edge and do a lot more damage than a couple of bruises and hair pulling.

* * *

After the taxing meet-up with Blaise that consisted of nothing but taunts, Draco and his mother returned to the Manor.

Draco heaved a sigh and Narcissa looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Draco looked at her warily.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked her, and she instantly broke out into a large grin, and suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. Draco grunted, and his eyes were wide. _What the – _

"Mother do explain your behaviour before I admit you to St Mungo's." He said warily. Narcissa simply laughed and pulled back from the embrace, holding Draco's shoulders tight, beaming at him.

"You've found her! You know who it is don't you!" she said excitedly, and Draco's eyes widened in shock.

"How on earth could you know that?" he asked her, incredulous. She laughed again.

"I can smell it on you." She said, shocking Draco. _Well that's fucking strange._

"Smell... it? Is this another weird Veela thing?" he asked cautiously, grimacing. Narcissa smiled at him and released her grip on his shoulders.

"When a Veela finds their mate they have a certain scent. It lasts for about twenty-four hours and I cannot describe it but, oh Merlin I'm so happy! Thank the stars you found her!" she cried giddily. Draco smiled at his mother's happiness before remembering who his mate actually was, and his smile vanished quickly, his stomach dropping. Narcissa seemed oblivious to this.

"So, who is she?" she asked him, grinning. Draco sighed heavily and ducked his head.

"Hermione Granger." Narcissa's smile vanished and her eyebrows shot up.

"As in Harry Potter's friend Hermione Granger?" she said, already knowing the answer. Draco nodded, feeling nauseous.

"The very same. The one and only Hermione Granger, who hates my guts." He said miserably. Narcissa tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"This could be a predicament. I'll have to ask Michael and see if he can help." She said, somewhat distracted. Draco raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Michael?" he queried. Narcissa smiled slightly.

"My mate," she replied, "Michael Jones, the Muggle-born Hufflepuff who I had tormented for years. He loathed me." She chuckled and smiled crookedly at Draco, whose lips were pursed in thought.

"You mean... there's hope?" he asked. Narcissa smiled wider and patted his cheek affectionately.

"There is always hope, Draco, you'd do well to remember that." And to that she hurried away, supposedly to her study, leaving Draco stood in the hallway with his shopping bags, lost in contemplation. Ever since finding out that Granger was his mate, Draco had a repetitive thought rolling through his head and jumping up and down, begging for attention, and that thought had been "_Shit I'm going to die_" but now that thought was pushed back slightly, repressed by a feeling slightly stronger than the dooming concept of his imminent death.

A small flicker of hope.

* * *

**AN: My apologies for this chapter, I probably should have put a warning in prior about there being abuse present in this fic. As I said, I don't think I like this chapter but hey I'm updating, I've yet to abandon this fic, this shows progress. **

**I might not update for a while I have my last exams, prom, some social shit I wish I could avoid, medical shit, that stuff. But after that I have an extended summer meaning more time to waste time and write this fic for you fabulous people. Thanks again for the reviews, favourites and follows it's a great encouragement to see people enjoying my writing.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**AN: not sure if I like this chapter. It's mostly filler, sorry about that. Also sorry for the lack of update recently, exams and that pile of crap people call prom kind of crept up on me. **

* * *

"Oh and don't forget to write, dear, I'll like to know if there are any developments with Miss Granger," said Narcissa, adjusting Draco's hair, who rolled his eyes.

"Yes of course, mother I'll keep you informed." He said, stepping away from Narcissa's motherly and fidgeting hands and raising an eyebrow at her. Narcissa smiled and pulled him into a last hug. It was September 1st, and it was quarter to eleven. The blond and his mother were bidding each other farewell at Platform 9 and ¾, white steam enveloping the crowds of parents and students, belched out from the scarlet train.

Draco stepped out of his mother's hug and bent down to carry his trunk. He gave her a farewell kiss on the cheek and a small smile before heading towards the familiar train.

"I'll miss you!" called his mother behind him. He threw back another smile with an eyebrow raised in amusement before continuing.

Once he had embarked the train, he remembered that he would have to talk to the prefects about their duties. He inwardly groaned, knowing he would not have much time this train journey to speak with Blaise about how he might go about wooing Granger before he ended up dead.

Now that his Veela transformation was over, Draco had recently been getting used to the new heightened senses. He thanked Merlin that his mother made sure the Manor was suitable for Veela sense of smell because every scent was like a kick in the face. Whenever he went to a town or city area, he could smell the sewage from beneath him. He was learning to hone his senses so he could drown out the constant ruckus, and block out the scent of dog shit from a quarter mile away.

It wasn't all bad, though. Draco could now see stars in the night sky that humans can only see with a telescope, and he found a great appreciation for the aromas of flowers and the bread baking in the bakery in the town not too far from the Manor. He had a newfound love for intricacy and subtly. He would never admit any of this aloud, however; Blaise would tease him and say he was turning into a girl instead of a Veela. Oh no, Draco would not give him that satisfaction.

Draco carried his trunk down to the far end of the train to the Heads compartment with ease, his new Veela strength aiding him in bearing the once heavy trunk. Draco slid open the carriage door and almost fell back because of the overwhelming scent of vanilla reverberating through his every nerve.

He spotted her sat by the window, and she had turned around, her honey eyes widening in shock and disbelief as they instantly darted to the Head Boy badge pinned to his jumper.

"_Malfoy?" _she spat "_You're _Head Boy?" the harsh tone was like a knife stabbing into his gut, but he brushed it off, mentally shaking himself from the drugging affects of her scent. He smirked.

"Surprise." He said, winking at her and lifting his trunk to the overhead compartment before plonking himself down on the seat opposite her. No matter how much he feigned nonchalance he was physically unable to relax. She was so _close_. It was like torture and pleasure at the same time.

Granger continued to scowl at him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Who'd you kill to get that badge, Malfoy?" she said cruelly. Draco snickered and his smirk widened.

"You'd be surprised to find that I didn't obtain this badge through murder or other means like bribery. Honestly Granger, how low is your opinion of me?" he raised an eyebrow. Granger smiled coldly.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Malfoy. I'm surprised you haven't already had a tantrum because you have to be in close quarters with a filthy _Mudblood _like me." Malfoy's smirk dropped at the venom in her voice and the scowl directed at him. He frowned at her.

"Don't call yourself that." He muttered tersely. She snorted.

"You called me that for the best of seven years! Why is it so different now?" she spat.

"Because I was a little dick being fed supremacy bullshit from a bigoted twat of a father, and I now know that blood has nothing to do with worth," he laughed bitterly "I'm living proof, a pureblood worth less than the dirt on your shoes, a Muggle-Born." He slouched in his chair and looked out the window, watching the last few stragglers embark the train. The prefects would be coming in soon, and the tense silence would be broken.

* * *

Hermione was tired. It was the 1st of September and the past two weeks at the Burrow had been exhausting. Ron would make cruel comments to her when they were alone, or whisper them in her ear. He'd told Harry and Ginny they were back together and when she had denied it he took her into another room and punched her repeatedly until she agreed to say she was joking and that they were back together.

She'd had to wake up early in the morning before Ginny got up to glamour any bruises visible. She had no idea how she got here, with Ron insulting her, hitting her, threatening to kill and rape her. When had he turned into this foul person? When had she become fearful of him? It was a sinking realisation to know that Ronald Weasley terrified her.

Hermione felt isolated, wondered how Ginny or Harry never noticed his cruel smiles and tight hugs, the painful grips on her thigh under the table during meals, the forceful kisses. She had only been in this for a couple of weeks and she felt trapped, like there was nothing she could do.

He had only hit her the first two times, but she worried he'd do it again, that something she'd say would provoke him, but he hadn't. Only the harsh comments and painful hickeys would come. She knew he was capable of snapping and she wondered when it would happen again.

Hermione was exhausted, to the point she was glad to have to leave her friends to go to the Heads compartment. That is, until Malfoy came in.

She was outraged that McGonagall would deem Malfoy worthy of being Head Boy with so many much more suitable candidates available.

She had been surprised to see he looked different, even more so than when they'd bumped into each other at the library. He was broader, slightly taller and skin had paled over the summer. His hair had also lightened to an almost white blond and fell in front of his eyes in an oh-so charming dishevelled manner that actors spent hours trying to achieve. When he'd walked in he stopped dead in his tracks, a look on his face identical to the one he'd had in Flourish and Blott's, the same silver sheen spreading across his iris.

Hermione was shaken with anger and disbelief. She snapped at him, and she could swear she saw hurt on his features before he composed himself with the usual Malfoy arrogance. He'd had the audacity to _wink _at her. Something jolted in her gut which confused Hermione, but she falsely labelled it as disgust.

She noticed how alert Malfoy was. He was sat up straight and his muscles tensed. Hermione noted how he'd toned up over the summer. She chose to ignore this, reminding herself of the pointy faced ferret she punched in third year. This was when she asked him,

"Who'd you kill to get that badge, Malfoy?" she knew it was kind of a cruel thing to say, but this was _Malfoy_, how could McGonagall seriously pick _him_ as Head Boy? He'd tried to kill Dumbledore! Maybe she's made a mistake or Malfoy has bribed her. That or she's lost her mind. This was going through her mind when Malfoy denied murdering or bribing anyone. _Damn he's guessed my next jab._

"Honestly Granger how low is your opinion of me?" Hermione held back a snort. After seven years of torment he asks her _that_? Hermione threw him her iciest smile.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Malfoy. I'm surprised you haven't already had a tantrum because you have to be in close quarters with a filthy _Mudblood _like me." She retorted, settling back smugly as she watched his smile drop. She wondered if she'd hit a sore spot. What he said next, however, surprised and angered her.

"Don't call yourself that." He seemed so serious, Hermione was unsure of what to do. She went for a cold exterior. So this time she didn't hold back her snort as she pointed out the obvious.

"You called me that for the best of seven years! Why is it so different now?" she spat at him, lacing her tone with ice. Malfoy looked grave, his arrogant smirk had vanished and his eyes darkened.

"Because I was a little dick being fed supremacy bullshit from a bigoted twat of a father, and I now know that blood has nothing to do with worth," he laughed bitterly "I'm living proof, a pureblood worth less than the dirt on your shoes, a Muggle-Born." Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. Had he just said that he was a lesser being than her? Was she dreaming? Had Draco Malfoy seriously admitted that pureblood supremacy was bollocks?

Hermione didn't know what to say or do, so she just took to leaning back in her seat, looking warily at the grim sombre Malfoy, who was now resolutely glaring out the window. The air was thick with tension and Hermione hoped the prefects would arrive soon.

* * *

After what felt like a lifetime spent in tense silence, the first of the prefects filed into the compartment. The first to arrive were, to Draco's relief, the Slytherins. Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Astoria Greengrass and another seventh year Hermione didn't recognise.

Blaise seemed to look amused as he surveyed the situation and sent a wink at Draco, who threw him a glare in return. This didn't go past Hermione and she pursed her lips in thought. The rigidity in Draco's muscles had still not ceased and he felt like if any male so much as sat next to Granger he'd pounce on them. Anxiety pulsated through him and he took shallow breaths. Blaise noticed this and patted his friend on the back in reassurance.

"No surprise that the Mudblood would get Head Girl, she always had her tongue stuck up McGonagall's arse." Astoria spat, laughing cruelly. Hermione tensed, willing herself not to snap at the bitch. Draco had no such willpower.

"Astoria shut the fuck up." He barked, much to everyone's surprise. Astoria scoffed.

"What? You haven't gone all soft on me have you Draco? Did you turn blood-traitor over the summer or something?" She sat down and crossed her legs. "When we get married that attitude better vanish, I don't want our kids shacking up with Mudbloods and Muggles."

Draco blanched and Blaise snorted. Hermione surveyed this with interest, wondering where the other prefects were. Pansy and the other seventh year were talking animatedly, ignoring the goings on around them.

"Astoria you know yours and Draco's marriage was called off right? We were literally just talking about Draco's her – I um mean change of heart over the summer," Hermione's curiosity peaked as she saw Malfoy elbow Zabini, getting him to change his sentence. _Now what's this about then? _"Besides didn't your parents inform you about the change?" Blaise raised an eyebrow at Astoria, who waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh pish posh so our marriage isn't arranged, that won't change anything. It's obvious _I'll _be the one for him." She smiled at Draco, whose jaw was clenched. The very idea of marrying Astoria made him nauseous. He had no idea how his mother managed to marry and sleep with someone who wasn't her mate.

Once again, Blaise opened his mouth to retort, but was cut short by the rest of the prefects filing into the compartment, just as the train lurched forward.

Ron came in and smiled at Hermione in what would seem to be a kindly and adoring fashion, but Hermione saw the malice in it. When he sat down next to her and he draped his arm around her shoulders, Hermione tried, but failed, not to flinch. For this she received a painful pinch on her shoulder. She swallowed tightly and sat rigid.

Draco scowled at the Weasel and molten silver took over his iris as he saw him touch _his _Mate. A low growl built in the back of his throat. Draco's muscles were coiled and ready, his heart rate was quickening and his jaw was clenched so tightly he thought it might break, fire coursed through his veins and a feral anger took over him. However, Blaise kept a firm grip on his shoulder to keep him from attacking the ginger Weasel right there.

Hermione blanched when she noticed Malfoy staring darkly at Ron, that silver sheen in his eyes again. _Okay I will have to investigate what on earth is going on with Malfoy at some point._

After a forcedly cheery welcome from Hermione and a grunt from Draco, they spoke briefly about duties and such and assigned patrol partners.

"Hey, Hermione, why don't you be my partner?" Ron had suggested, a knowing glint in his eye. Hermione cleared her throat and shuffled slightly away from him, earning her another pinch. She winced.

"Um no Head Boy and Head Girl are patrol partners, sorry Ron." She wasn't actually all too sorry. Sure, Malfoy was a dick but at least there'd be no beatings or threats of rape from him. Malfoy used words to taunt her, not physical violence. Ron scowled but didn't say anything. Hermione caught Malfoy smirking slightly from the corner of her eye and she whipped her head around to glare at him, causing him to smirk wider.

The meeting ended with a "You will receive patrol and duty time-tables on Tuesday morning at breakfast. See you around guys." And then the prefects filed out. Ron left with a bruising and sloppy kiss goodbye and another pinch on Hermione's thigh. Draco noticed this and frowned, shooting her a questioning look, which she ignored. An uneasy feeling grew in his stomach and he promised himself he'd ask her later.

* * *

The rest of the train journey was mainly spent in silence. Then Draco spoke.

"I'm sorry, Granger." He blurted. Hermione turned to face him with wide eyes. _He's apologising? When has he ever apologised in his life? I should've got that on camera, no one will believe me if I tell them._

"What for?" she asked him. Draco worried his lip and looked at his lap.

"Everything," he looked up at her with a sheepish smile. "My petty torments and prejudices against you. I should've learnt sooner it was all rubbish. My father always told me bullshit like how all Muggle-Borns are inferior and how stupid and filthy they are, that they don't deserve magic and I, like the impressionable prat I was, ate it all up. I spent my first five years in Hogwarts looking down at anyone that wasn't pureblood, and what for? You can't help who your parents are, who your family is..." he looked down again "You made me realise just how much of it is bullshit. You always bested me, and I _despised _you for that. You went against everything my father told me, you contradicted everything I believed, you made me have _second thoughts_. I suppose I should thank you for that, really." He chuckled and looked back up at her.

Hermione's eyes were wide as she took in everything he was saying. _Do I believe him? Do I trust him? People don't change that quickly, do they? _Her scepticism ate at her, whilst another part of her was saying _Come on, he's genuine, look. No one can lie that well. This is an actual apology, he's being nice! Don't condemn him right away._

Hermione sat back and studied him. He looked pretty genuine and she could tell he felt guilty, but she was still wary. However, she grinned.

"Are you saying you're apologising for being mean to Harry and Ron as well?" she crossed her arms and chuckled at his expression.

"Now now," he said playfully, half of his mouth turned up "That wasn't out of prejudice, they bring that upon themselves really." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Although I believe that your apology and change of views is somewhat sincere, you're still arrogant and vain as ever." She raised an eyebrow when he smirked and put his hands behind his head.

"Wouldn't you be if you looked this good?" he said, winking at her. Again she rolled her eyes.

"Typical." She muttered, but she couldn't help smile a little at the friendly, playful conversation they were having. Draco leaned forward and reached one hand out towards her, smiling.

"So, truce?" he asked, taking her by surprise. Hermione blinked but smiled at him.

"For now, Malfoy." She responded, reaching her hand out to clasp his.

The electricity that ran through her veins when they shook hands was something Hermione was not expecting. She gasped a little and quickly pulled back, staring wide eyed at Malfoy, who had a similar expression of shock across his face, along with something else Hermione didn't recognise. He was breathing heavily but he smiled tightly at her and leaned back, reverting back to looking out the window. Hermione watched him until the silver in his eyes vanished and his breathing slowed.

_What the fuck is going on?_


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Apologies for the shortness of this chapter. Also sorry for not updating in so long, I've had a bit of a mental block recently but I have persevered. If this chapter seems jolty or badly written I'm sorry, I literally forced myself to write so that I don't go dry again. Anyhow, let's get to it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Having arrived at Hogsmeade station, Draco made a mad dash out of the compartment, confusing Hermione after their so-called truce. Draco had spent the train journey trying to block her intoxicating scent from his mind but it filled the room, suffocating him with its sweetness. The pleasurable torture of being so close to Hermione had him nearly pouncing on her, so he ran away from her, not looking back to see her puzzled expression.

Blaise found him on the platform in a daze, and he patted his shoulder, startling him from his reverie. Blaise cocked his head to the side and smirked.

"So how was the train ride?" he asked playfully, a mischievous grin was plastered across his face. Draco glared.

"Drugging." He retorted. Blaise raised a curious eyebrow.

"Well that's... new." He said, unsure. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Her scent, Blaise, it's... indescribable. It puts me into a drugged up stupor and my Veela can't get enough of the damn stuff. I'm hooked on a fucking _smell _Blaise, you have any idea what that's like?" Blaise bit back his snigger and gave him an attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Yeah I heard it's all the rage these days," he teased. Draco shot him a steely look as they walked through the platform, Hagrid's booming voice in the background.

"Go fuck yourself, Zabini," he hissed, but Blaise, having known the temperamental blond for many years, knew he was not truly pissed, and put an arm around the sulky Malfoy.

"Cheer up, Draco, you could just tell her you're a Veela and she's your mate. She's much too honourable to ever let you die, you know that." Blaise reasoned, but Draco simply frowned.

"No, I want her to accept me because she wants to, not because she feels obliged. If I sprung this on her there's no way I could get her to fall for me, she'd feel trapped. I mean, she'll end up feeling pretty stuck in a dead end anyway but, if I could just... get her into a position where I can court her then maybe the blow won't be as heavy right?" Draco worried his lip, the uncertainty of what he was saying eating away at him.

_If I tell her the truth before I woo her, she won't ever fall for me, she'll feel lost and trapped, stuck with a dick like me. But if I end up getting her to fall in love with me and then tell her this she'll end up feeling betrayed. I can't do either of those things to her. _

"Either way, you're going to end up with an uncomfortable conversation, maybe a bit of screaming, perhaps a slap across your face or two, but your mother said it'll all work out in the end. Don't worry about it, she'd never be so spiteful as to let you die, and if the last resort is to tell her, and you don't, I'll tell her myself. You will not die for this, Draco Malfoy, oh no, you have lived under the same roof as Voldemort himself and you will not die because of your own idiotic stubbornness." Blaise huffed, and Draco stared with wide eyes, smiling in amusement.

"I do happen to have a little self preservation, Blaise, don't you worry; I won't go dying on you because of my stupid Veela blood that's for sure." Draco smirked at him. Blaise rolled his eyes but glanced warily at Draco when he felt his shoulders tense up. His eyes were silver. Blaise scowled and looked around, and saw Granger stood right behind them. Draco turned too and paled.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck she heard them didn't she fuck this is not what I had in mind. _

Hermione greeted them with a nod as she hurried past the two paled Slytherins, towards the direction of one Ginny Weasley, who was stood by a carriage waving her over.

Blaise glanced warily at Draco.

"Well I think I'm right in saying that your plan might've died in the womb a little." He said dryly, ignoring the irate glare sent from the outraged Malfoy.

* * *

Hermione stared after Malfoy's retreating back with a sigh. _Just because you have a truce doesn't mean he wants to be around a Mudblood. _She thought to herself spitefully. She collected her trunk and cage with Crookshanks in and walked out of the compartment, huffing slightly at the weight from the trunk.

Hermione was jostled through the crowd on the train, through many "ooft"s and "Excuse me"s and "Sorry"s, Hermione finally made it onto the platform, Crookshanks now mewing incessantly at her from being woken up. Ignoring him, Hermione carefully made her way through the throng of students to try to get to the carriages. She found herself walking behind Malfoy and his friend Zabini, both of whom were deep in discussion.

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she happened to catch Malfoy being rude to his friend, surprise, surprise.

"Go fuck yourself, Zabini," she heard him snap. She listened in subconsciously, _what on earth could make Malfoy so vehement towards his best friend? _

She watched in amusement and slight admiration as Zabini draped an arm over the temperamental blond. What she heard next made her almost drop her trunk in shock.

"Cheer up, Draco, you could just tell her you're a Veela and she's your mate. She's much too honourable to ever let you die, you know that."

_Huh, so Malfoy's Veela? Feel sorry for the poor girl that's going to be bound to him for a lifetime. _She thought to herself. Oh, the irony.

Hermione was intrigued now, and though guilt ate at her for listening in on someone else's conversation, she focused intently on what they were saying, hoping maybe to catch the name of this Mate of his.

"No, I want her to accept me because she wants to, not because she feels obliged. If I sprung this on her there's no way I could get her to fall for me, she'd feel trapped. I mean, she'll end up feeling pretty stuck in a dead end anyway but, if I could just... get her into a position where I can court her then maybe the blow won't be as heavy right?" to Hermione he sounded so uncertain and worried she couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him, and she was surprised to hear him take this girl's feelings into consideration. She'd read in that book she'd bought in Diagon Alley, "_Veelas and Their Mates"_ (now makes a lot of sense as to why Malfoy was buying that book too),that the Veela's Mate always comes first, and that a Veela will care for, love and cherish them for the rest of their lives together. The thought of Draco Malfoy caring for, loving or cherishing anything was so amusing Hermione had to stifle a giggle.

_Maybe the girl won't be too unlucky after all. _She mused, listening as Zabini huffed at Malfoy.

"Either way, you're going to end up with an uncomfortable conversation, maybe a bit of screaming, perhaps a slap across your face or two, but your mother said it'll all work out in the end. Don't worry about it, she'd never be so spiteful as to let you die, and if the last resort is to tell her, and you don't, I'll tell her myself. You will not die for this, Draco Malfoy, oh no, you have lived under the same roof as Voldemort himself and you will not die because of your own idiotic stubbornness."

Hermione suddenly felt a lot sorrier for Malfoy, remembering that if Veelas didn't bond with their mate before their nineteenth birthday they were good for dead. _No wonder he seems tense. _

Hermione didn't catch the last part as she noticed Ginny waving at her from a carriage, and sped up slightly, watching as Malfoy and Zabini turned around and stared at her white-faced. She feigned nonchalance and greeted them with a nod before hurrying towards Ginny.

She reached Ginny and the redhead greeted her with a grin.

"Hey, Hermione, why are the snakes staring at you like that?" she asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder. Hermione glanced around and spotted the paled and slightly wary looking Slytherins. She turned back to Ginny and shrugged.

"No idea, let's go then shall we?"

* * *

**AN: I have another Dramione fic, now, a new one. I only have the prologue up at the moment but if you want to check it out, go on my profile and you'll find "Dancing With A Demon" on there. In case you haven't noticed, I'm slightly fond of Dramione fics. Not many others I can read if I'm honest. **

**Also, now I'm officially in my fabulously long 10 week summer (I usually only get 6 weeks), I'll hopefully be updating a lot more often.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Okay I'm sure you've heard it all before but I am so so sorry for the delay in updating. I've kind of gotten a bit sidetracked with other means of passing time, such as baking and sewing and I swear I'm turning into a 1950s housewife. Except instead of wearing dresses I wear pyjamas. I'm really sorry and I apologise for the shortness of the chapter as well I deserve a slap on the wrist really. **

**However this is the furthest I've gotten with a fic so let's count our lucky stars I haven't abandoned it. Okay sorry, on with the show. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

_Previously: Hermione overhears Draco and Blaise discussing Draco's Veela heritage._

* * *

Once they had arrived at the castle, Hermione, Ginny and Luna hopped off the carriage and headed over to the feast, following the large crowd of students. Hermione had been pulled aside by Professor McGonagall beforehand, with whom was none other than Draco Malfoy, who was strategically avoiding her eyes.

Remembering that he most probably knew that she had heard all about his Veela blood, Hermione copied him in this and fixated on McGonagall, who was telling them to meet her after the feast in the Entrance Hall so that she could take them to their shared dorms. Hermione was not thrilled at the prospect of sharing a living space with Malfoy, her childhood bully, but she decided to keep an open mind. After all, war changes everyone, and they _had_ made a truce, so it might not be too bad, right?

After that the feast went by rather quickly. Every now and then Hermione would glance up at the Slytherin table and notice Malfoy's piercing glare fixated on Ron, who, to her utter disgust, was sat extremely close to her, his hand stroking her thigh under the table. She was unable to relax the entire feast, what with the groping and whispered threats of more to come in her ear. She picked at her food and forced herself not to throw up.

Hermione had never considered herself weak, but when it came to Ron, she found herself unable to stop him. Maybe it was the shock of the whole situation, of Ron's sudden and inexplicable change in personality. Though hot-headed he may be Ron had never been this violent or manipulative.

Hermione darted out as soon as it was over, watching as Ron had to lead the first years, as a prefect, instead of pursue her, to her relief. She waited in the Entrance Hall for Malfoy and McGonagall to arrive, watching the students pour out of the hall, chattering excitedly, the first years wide eyed and nervous as they followed the prefects to their dorms.

Hermione picked at her nails, shoulders hunched up defensively, eyes darting to and fro. After the nerve-racking experience with Ron at the feast, she was on edge, and jumped a mile when a certain blond came from behind and stood next to her. He raised an eyebrow at her and quirked his lips slightly.

"You seem awfully jumpy, Granger." He stated, a teasing lilt to his voice. Hermione just rolled her eyes and shrugged, not bothering to respond. He continued to study her and she was suddenly extremely aware of his presence. She felt like he was breathing down her neck, as if he was stood a mere millimetre away from her, and yet he kept a reasonable distance, not invading her personal bubble at all. She glanced sideways at him and watched him continue to observe her. He flashed a small smirk before averting his gaze, reverting back to the avoiding of eye contact.

McGonagall found them not long after and looked them up and down before raising an eyebrow.

"Well done on not killing each other, I see you have grown out of the petty fighting then?" she flashed Malfoy a knowing look and smiled at them both. They both frowned slightly but Hermione nodded hesitantly whilst Malfoy simply shrugged. They didn't speak, and McGonagall glanced between them perceptively, the smile still upon her face.

Draco didn't seem to recall ever seeing McGonagall smile and was wary due to the foreign concept of McGonagall cracking what was almost a smirk at the two.

"Well then, before I show you to your rooms I must say congratulations to the you on achieving Head Boy and Girl, well deserved by both of you, I hope you prove I picked wisely." She regarded them both as they nodded their thanks.

McGonagall straightened up and her smile widened, to Draco's and Hermione's surprise.

"Well let's not dawdle, onwards and upwards to your rooms, you've had a long journey and I'm sure you just want to rest now. Follow me." She turned swiftly on her heel and strode down the corridors and up a flight of stairs, Draco and Hermione trailing behind her.

She led them to a filled in stone archway hidden in a small alcove. With the three of them there was not much space between them and Draco had to hold his breath as Hermione's alluring scent was overwhelming. _How on earth am I ever going to get used to this? _He thought to himself, slightly frustrated. It won't be long before his self-control maxed out and he did something stupid like kiss her.

He tried to focus on McGonagall as she tapped a sequence of bricks with her wand, and the bricks melted away, just like the entrance to Diagon Alley. The archway now led to an impressive common room with a warm, homely feel. There was a large portrait of the four founders of Hogwarts above a stonework fireplace, which had a warm fire merrily crackling in its grate.

Facing the fireplace were two cotton brown armchairs and a sofa piled with maroon cushions, all facing a mahogany coffee table sat atop a Persian rug. Atop the coffee table was a glass vase with white orchids and two folders full of details and duties for the Head Boy and Girl.

On opposite sides of the room were two desks, with their quills, parchment and ink pots already unpacked atop them. Mounted on the wall next to the desks were corkboards and pins.

The carpet was a dark brown in colour and the walls were coloured a warm beige, with a crown moulding of intricate swirling designs in gold and silver. Adorning the walls were a few landscape paintings and portraits in ornate frames.

On either side of the fireplace was a set of staircases presumably leading to their rooms. To the right of the room, next to one of the desks, was an archway leading to a small kitchenette. The left wall had a window with a view of the Black Lake and the Hogwarts grounds surrounding it. On either sides of the entrance were large bookcases filled with books, which caught the attention of both Draco and Hermione.

McGonagall smiled as the two Heads stood there admiring the common room. She cleared her throat to catch their attention.

"If there are any questions I will be in my office. Good luck to you both." She said briskly before nodding to them and leaving through the archway, which soon filled up with brickwork again.

Immediately the atmosphere became awkward. Draco turned to Hermione who seemed to be avoiding his gaze. His stomach churned. She had heard, then. _Oh god she knows. _

He watched her for a moment, pondering whether to say anything as she explored the bookshelf with wide interested eyes. He chewed his lip in thought as he watched her avidly run her fingers along the leather spines of the volumes, embellished with golden letters.

He cleared his throat uncertainly, watching as her shoulders hunched and she glanced quizzically in his direction. He quirked his lips in slight amusement at her wary expression and stepped towards her.

"What did you hear?" he demanded softly. His voice never raised and yet Hermione's skin puckered with goosebumps. She swallowed thickly and met his intense gaze determinedly. In a quick decision she chose not to feign ignorance and she actually found herself smirking up at him, much to both their surprise.

"Everything." She stated, raising an eyebrow at him. He groaned and turned away from her, putting his head in his hands. She frowned slightly, worried.

"It's okay; really, I'm sorry I heard, I didn't mean to. I won't tell anyone or judge. If anything it's a good thing, I can maybe help you to 'court' your mate, as you put it. I could give you some female advice," she watched him raise his head, and was surprised to find he looked quite amused. She furrowed her eyebrows.

"You didn't hear who my mate is?" he asked her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"No you never said. I can't say I'm not curious though," she chuckled to herself at the thought that just popped into her head. He scowled at her.

"What's so funny?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I just thought what if your mate turned out to be a muggle-born," she snickered "Or a guy." She doubled over at his expression of shock horror.

"I can tell you now, Granger, that my mate is _not,_ and I repeat _not, _a guy." He bit out, taken aback. He watched as she bit her lip to keep from laughing, her expression amused. His eyes were trained on her lips and he had to mentally slap himself to look away.

"Okay, okay, I get it you're an all masculine so-not-gay kind of guy, whatever you say, Veela." She smiled amusedly. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Really that's the best you can come up with? Veela?" He shook his head. Hermione shrugged.

"Whatever, bird boy, so come on, spill," she studied him as he grimaced.

"Spill what?" he said innocently, feigning ignorance. She rolled her eyes.

"You know exactly _what_. Who's your mate?" She crossed her arms and studied his expression. He suddenly became guarded and he looked slightly pained.

"Now that's a dangerous question Granger," he said with a cool tone to his voice. Hermione frowned.

"And why's that?" she queried. Malfoy paused before stepping towards her, a cold smile on his face.

"Because you might not like the answer." He replied quietly, before turning on his heel and stalking up the staircase, leaving Hermione staring after him bewildered.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has favourited, followed and reviewed this fic it's great to get feedback, any kind. If you have any constructive criticism on how I could improve my writing or grammar or anything, do let me know. Especially if I have an annoying habit because I know I can be reading a fic I actually like but the writer has this little _thing _they keep doing which is annoying. I can't think of an example but yeah let me know if you can think of anything I can do to improve. I don't have a beta so there will most probably be some mistakes. **

**Also do let me know if you're enjoying it. Positive reviews are a great motivator. Thank you! **


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hi yes me again, apologies for the um slight delay. Thank you so much for the reviews etc couldn't do it without you. I'm sorry to those who asked me to update more I've been procrastinating through means of... Assassins Creed. Don't shoot me. Anyhow, it's a long one (for me, anyway), hope that makes up for it. **

**Also, just a head's up, I won't be writing much because from Sunday I'll be devoting a week to GISHWHES, if anyone else is a fellow scavenger, happy hunting! Let's hope no one gets into trouble for dressing half naked in some form of produce. I'm sure Misha has a lot in store for us. (if you don't know what it is, check it out, registration for this year is closed but I'm pretty sure there'll be a fourth GISHWHES next year given its success) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That much should be pretty clear.**

* * *

The Head's common room had been tense all evening. The air had been thick and suffocating, almost like stepping off a plane into a hot country and being hit by the heat in the air. It wasn't until they both went to bed that it had soothed. Now it was early morning, and the opportunity had arisen for the tension to build once more.

Draco emerged at two in the morning to find Hermione lit by wand light, unsurprisingly with her nose buried in the pages of a hardback book, a mug of hot chocolate sat on the coffee table, neatly placed on a coaster.

Even though he had known she was there by her scent, Draco still started when he saw her. Frankly, in the dark, lit only by wand light, she had frightened him, and he stared wide eyed at her. She had yet to notice his presence, unsurprising given the low lighting and his silent movements. She also seemed pretty absorbed by the book. Draco doubted she would've noticed a robbery had one presented itself.

He walked up to her, standing behind the armchair she was curled up in, and leant over her small form. She looked so serene, he almost didn't want to disturb her, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Smirking, he softly tapped her on the shoulder.

In hindsight, his timing could have been a lot better. Why he'd decided to pick the moment she had picked up her mug of hot chocolate he had no idea. He leapt back as she shrieked and swivelled round, tossing the steaming contents of her mug at him.

Her wide-eyed stare fixed on him as he nursed a burnt hand, and she lifted her wand to illuminate his pale and smirking face.

"Fuck! What are you playing at, Malfoy?" she frowned at him as he started to laugh.

"You'd do great in a horror film, Granger," Draco laughed, cooling his hand with his wand, and he grinned at her. She rolled her eyes and waved her wand, lighting the Common Room. "Burn the hands of all the scary monsters with hot chocolate; they'll never mess with you again." Hermione looked warily at Draco, wondering why he was being so well-natured, given she'd nearly scolded him.

"Yeah, sorry about that, but you should know not to creep up behind someone in the dark." She scowled when he only smiled wider.

"Oh Granger don't you worry your pretty little head about it, I was hoping for such a reaction. Maybe with a little less hot liquid thrown in my direction but hey, we learn from our mistakes." Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully at his playful attitude, remembering his serious and warning tone from earlier. She decided not to bring it up; she rather liked this side of him.

"What are you doing up anyway? It's like, midnight..?" She realised she didn't actually know what the time was, and noticed her eyelids had grown heavy, and blinking took longer than usual. _Maybe it's a little later than I thought... though it's not like I've been sleeping much recently, anyhow. _

Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"I can't sleep, wanted some tea. Add a couple hours, Granger, I think you got a bit lost in your book there. Then again, when don't you?" Hermione was surprised to hear his tone was not spiteful, but friendly, almost affectionate, like the way Harry might tease her about her bookworm trait, so would Ron... well, when he was... Ron.

Remembering her predicament her heart sank and a whirlpool of her anxieties and frustrations spun around and around in her mind, that sinkhole she had been attempting to avoid by burying herself in another world within the bindings of a tome, a fictional world, where Hermione Granger didn't exist and she wasn't trapped with a monster bearing the face of a friend.

Draco noticed the change in her and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He walked around to sit across from her, leaning forward. His Veela senses perked up to tell him that his Mate was upset, and that worried him.

"Everything alright, Granger?" he queried, and she looked up, nodding distantly. He scowled. "Don't lie to me, I'm not stupid. What's wrong?" Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly to see genuine concern. Surely he couldn't be worried about her welfare?

"Why should you care?" she snapped, but there was no venom in her tone, only emptiness. Her worries had caught up with her, and like a leech, were sapping the life from her. Draco studied her carefully.

"Why shouldn't I?" he retorted. Hermione scoffed.

"Well you've never really been the _caring _type all this time at Hogwarts now have you? I'm not wrong to think there may be some ulterior motive to your supposed concern right? Not after these years of the cold-hearted Draco Malfoy I've encountered, who cared only for himself, and would never give half a putrid shit if another being was upset. In fact, if a little Mudblood was upset it might even be his doing, which is a victory in his eyes. So why, Malfoy should you care about lowly little know-it-all Granger's feelings?" she was being spiteful, but she didn't really care. All of a sudden her mood had plummeted, and she distantly acknowledged that she was being unfair by taking out her problems on him.

Draco's throat had constricted slightly and he leant back, crossing his arms, regarding Hermione with a worried look. This was quite unlike her, snapping at him for no reason, her mood suddenly sinking the way it had, and he realised something was up. Going through his recent memories of her, he realised what may be the issue. His jaw tensed and he scowled slightly.

"Is this about Weasley?" he asked in a hushed tone. She stiffened, and that's how he knew he was right. Hermione swallowed thickly and refused to meet his gaze.

"What's it to you?" she said defensively, teeth clenched. Draco clicked his tongue.

"Trouble in paradise?" he said, slightly petty. The idea of her and Weasley repulsed both him and his Veela. It was a miracle he had not torn apart the ginger yet, but if he found out that Weasley had been hurting _his _Mate in any way shape or form, then he was fucking having it. Hermione scowled.

"That's none of your business." She muttered and lowered her head. Draco leaned forward again.

"It could be. I'm told I'm an excellent listener. And given that you can't really confide in your other two friends, Potter and Red, given one's his best friend and the other's his sister, well then I'm always here if you need." He said sincerely. She was taken aback by his earnest expression, and his softened eyes. She actually considered telling him everything, but decided against it after her small lapse in sanity.

"I'm sorry, but I – I just can't... I know we called a truce and everything but I'm not sure I'm all that ready to trust you. Maybe... maybe one day, we could be friends or something, I don't know, it could happen." She shrugged, suddenly growing shy. It warmed her heart that there was the slight chance someone cared about if she was okay, and it was nice that he'd actually noticed, even if it was Malfoy.

Draco's Veela winced slightly when she said she didn't trust him, but he assured himself that was normal, and that he would have to build her trust. He soared when she said they could be friends, and he couldn't keep the grin from his face.

"That's understandable. Yeah, I'd like that, to be friends... or something. You know, eventually." He grinned wider when he saw her smile. It was small, but it was definitely there, and he had brought that about.

"I'm going to go to bed, sorry about your hand, and thank you, for... caring... if you were actually sincere. If you were faking as some ploy to humiliate me then forget I said thank you, and royally fuck you." Draco raised an eyebrow but he realised she was teasing slightly, if with a little bit of sincerity.

"Well, goodnight, don't get too lost in your books, Granger. Potter and Weasley wouldn't know how to live without you." He smirked and she rolled her eyes.

"Night, Malfoy." She stood and walked up the stairs to her dorm.

"Goodnight." Draco called just before he heard the soft thud of her bedroom door shut.

He leant back and ran a hand through his hair, realising there was another obstacle that stood between him and Granger to add to his collection, one he had definitely not forgotten and yet he hadn't considered the interference. Weasley.

Something would definitely have to be done about that pesky redhead.

* * *

The blonde haired witch dressed in a long expensive coat strode down the streets of Muggle London. It was light out, and she was still not used to being so out in the open when she visited these parts.

Ever since her husband's imprisonment, Narcissa Malfoy had decided not to hide. If the Daily Prophet found out about her and Michael, so be it. Lucius was in Azkaban and could do nothing about it. Anyone who would have hurt her or Michael if the Prophet decided to out their relationship was either dead or imprisoned.

She was strong, and could handle a bit of bad press. She had been ever since Lucius' time in Azkaban after the incident with the Ministry. She pulled her coat further around herself to protect against the autumn chill that had began to settle this early September.

She turned a corner onto a busier street. Michael lived in the heart of London, close to the Ministry, where he worked, and Narcissa was still not used to the mad bustle of daytime London. She'd thought the streets were busy during the night, but that had not prepared her for the copious amounts of muggles and wizards alike all hurrying past each other.

It was the street performers that amazed Narcissa. Every now and then she'd walk past a wizard act, amazing the muggles with the seemingly impossible act. How they could use magic so openly and for it to be legal bewildered her. Muggles were blind to the blatant magic around them, which she found highly amusing.

She came to an apartment building further away from the shops and the noise and the contradictory organisation of the chaos of the crowd. She fumbled in her coat pocket for the strange muggle device Michael had told her was a fob key. She had been slightly awed by muggles and their ability to get by without the use of magic, that they would be able to create nifty items and gear like this fob key. She swiped it and opened the door.

She climbed the stairs, heart rate quickening with anticipation of seeing her Mate, just like every time she visits. Up she climbed, her heels echoing in the chilly stairway. She had never trusted those muggle contraptions – lifts, they were called. And so, each visit found her climbing five flights of concrete stairs, each step more exciting than the last, one step closer to her Mate, the one made for her and only her.

He was the one who would ebb her pain from being with Lucius, calm the angry mosquitoes that would swarm inside her; guilt eating away at her, draining her. Always she had suffered, only content with him. Soon he would come to the Manor with her and Lucius would be a mere nightmare long forgotten.

Lost in daydream, Narcissa had not noticed that she had reached his door. Her heart nudged in her chest slightly as she rapped softly on the wood of the door, behind which was her completion.

Swallowing her Veela instincts, which urged at her to beat down the door, Narcissa waited patiently, listening out for the telltale footsteps from inside.

She smelled him before she heard him, and her heart jolted at the familiarity. The comforting oak and cinnamon scent always soothed her nerves, made her feel safe. She lived for his scent. For him.

The door swung open and she flung into his arms, as usual. Like always he had been prepared and did not topple over. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he chuckled.

"I've missed you too, Cissa." He laughed affectionately as he pulled away to close the door. Narcissa's heart soared to hear his voice. Any time apart was too much and it was times like this that she felt both blessed and cursed by her Veela blood.

On one hand, love like a Veela and their Mate is difficult to come by, and it is what everyone seems to be searching for. It is pure and beautiful and lasts a lifetime. It is resilient and powerful above all. This isn't about romance, not at all, but love, the word that is rarely understood. It's not all fluffy bunnies and rainbows. It is not pink and white and soft. It is raw, and strong. It is red, for the passion and the blood that has been shed in its name. If it can protect an infant from a grown and powerful wizard's ruthless harm it can do anything. It is the making and breaking of people. It is the strongest thing there is and cannot be forced or manufactured.

The Veela and Mate relationship always starts on instincts. The Veela is intoxicated by their Mate, constantly wanting to be around them, simply craving them. It is not love, not yet. The Mate is attracted to the Veela instinctively, if only physically at first.

Eventually the relationship develops; the first stage of the bond is formed. The Mate is accepting of the Veela's affections and is willing to return them. The Marking is the animalistic stage. It is about territory, biology, strength.

The love only comes just before the final stage of bonding. Time is spent together, compatibilities become clear. They agree to progress. It has always been this way. The Veela and Mate cannot fall out of love after this. It is Eros love in its purest form, without higher motives or the like.

The curse is the pain that comes from time spent apart. The burden. The never ending ache that grows in your gut like a swelling balloon, growing more and more before it bursts and suddenly, pop! There you are. Gone.

Michael led Narcissa to his sofa, hand in hers, each refusing to let go. They sat in silence, grinning like children, both content to be with the other, naught a word or action need be put in place.

After many a moment spent like this, Michael spoke up.

"So, what is it you needed to tell me? You sounded pretty urgent in your patronus." He said. Narcissa stiffened and worried her lip, watching her pale hand entwined with his olive-toned one.

"It's about Draco." She said quickly, and she felt Michael tense. She looked up and his brown eyes were sharp.

"What about him?" he asked, his voice cold. Narcissa sighed. Michael had never been fond of the fact that she had had a child with Lucius, and not him. She understood, but she wished he didn't dislike Draco as much as he did. He had never met him and knew nothing about him, and yet he was determined to resent him.

"He's... found his Mate." At this Michael's eyebrows rose, and his eyes filled with concern.

"Is she..?" he needn't finish the question, as Narcissa knew what he would say. It had been discussed for years now, and they had prayed their suspicions were wrong.

Narcissa nodded sombrely and Michael let out a breath, running his free hand through black hair. He closed his eyes briefly.

"Shit," he breathed, sounding resigned. He studied her briefly and his shoulders dropped "So it's true? It's about him?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Narcissa nodded, head lowered in despair.

"Michael what are we going to do?" she whispered.

"There's nothing we can do, Cissa. If we keep them apart they'll die, as will countless others."

"But you read what happens if they bond!"

"I _know,_ Narcissa! But it'll work out in the end... eventually, maybe not for us but... Besides, we could be wrong. We could have, I don't know, misinterpreted it." He was grasping at thin air and they both knew it. The hopelessness and misery had settled at the pit of their stomachs and was there to stay. Narcissa smiled sadly.

"Michael, I suspect it's already in action. I... I sensed one, when I was in Diagon Alley with Draco. In _daylight_, Michael! It's started. We can't avoid this." Her head drooped and she sighed dejectedly. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and Michael pulled her to him, soothing her. This was only the beginning.

They had read the inevitable outcome and they knew their fate was set in stone, and there was no use fighting it. However, that much couldn't be said about another couple.

* * *

**AN: Yes I know, very cryptic. I have many a plan for this fic to try and break free of the numerous Dramione clichés. Given the Veela!Draco and Abusive!Ron plotline, so far I'm not doing so well. Do not hate me for the Ron bashing I love Ron in the books honestly, I have a plan for him. You'll either love it or hate it, a tad like Marmite. **

**In response to nightreader10: I'm sorry if you find the pacing a bit slow, trust me, they'll get there eventually I just don't want to rush it or make them _too _OOC. But I'm glad you like it! **

**Thanks to all who have reviewed, favourited, and followed so far, trust me I'm trying to update as often as I can, I have another one I haven't updated in ages, as this is my main priority. **


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: **Okay I know what you're thinking, and I'm sorry this took so long. I've had my birthday, and there was GISHWHES, and Mardi Gras, I've been doing my original writing because when you get that random burst of motivation and inspiration, you've got to go for it really, so yeah sorry. Not to mention I've now started college so my A levels will end up taking up quite a bit of my time so I apologise in advance for more long waits. To make up for it, this is my longest chapter yet, woo hoo. It takes quite a few different turns so it's a bit stop-start, in my opinion, I don't know, I also haven't properly checked for any mistakes because I didn't want it to take even longer.

**WARNING: ABUSE AND RAPE THREATS. I've put a double line before and after this in case this may be upsetting for anyone. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

The Slytherin table would have to cope without Draco's contribution for a while, it seemed, as his mealtimes were spent watching Granger intently across the Great Hall, always seated next to a too-close Weasley at the scarlet-and-gold adorned Gryffindor table. A few weeks have gone by in this manner and it seemed most of them have simply grown used to him being absent, not bothering him as to why. Blaise, for one, knew from day one, and the rest really didn't give a shit.

Slytherins aren't generally of the concerned or trusting nature. If Draco wanted to be silent during meals, then they'd leave him to it. It was not their business and they didn't want it to be. That's just how things worked.

To his disappointment, he and Hermione did not talk much after the night-time run in except to discuss duties or engage in idle small talk. Thankfully, Hermione never allowed Weasley into the dorms, no matter how much he'd beg her. Draco would smugly listen from the sofa in the common room, seemingly disinterested, as she once again denied him entrance and went about her daily business.

She would never tell him, but Draco knew that something odd was going on between her and Weasley. The fact that they were together at all nauseated him enough but – call him crazy – he seemed to think it nauseated Granger all the same. It might just be his hopeful side talking, but his instincts haven't been wrong thus far, and so he was going to find out what was going on once and for all. It might even help get rid of the annoying obstacle that is Weasley.

For now, however, civil cooperation and daydreaming was what he had to settle for, if he just wanted to be around her. It would never fully sooth his nagging Veela, but it would have to do.

From simply observing Hermione Granger, without a blind perspective of hatred towards her, he learnt a lot about the girl. How she tapped out the rhythm of the music she was listening to on her thumb with her fingers, how she twirled her hair when reading, how she liked her tea with more milk than possible and one sugar, how she baked when she was stressed or upset, how she'd chew the end of her quill when concentrating, how she'd sometimes fall asleep when reading or doing homework, how she would get up in the middle of the night to make a hot drink if she couldn't sleep.

All the little things Draco never thought would interest him seemed to grab his attention now more than ever. He didn't find her alluring just because she had a nice body or a pretty face, but because of all these little things that made Hermione Granger who she is. He didn't know her favourite colour, or flower, or food, or music, but he knew her quirks, just the little things, and it was a start.

One night found Granger at Gryffindor Tower, leaving Draco to mope in their common room, pining for his mate. This is why Blaise, who had been told how to enter the Head's quarters right at the beginning of the year, found Draco lying on his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling with a frown on his face.

"Draco for the love of Merlin, will you pull yourself together?" Blaise exclaimed loudly as he sat down on the sofa, glaring at Draco's sulking form.

"You don't understand, Blaise," he muttered. Blaise rolled his eyes and summoned a bottle of butterbeer from the kitchenette, and he leant back with a groan.

"What don't I understand?" he asked, exasperated. Draco turned his head to look at his friend, who had made himself quite at home drinking _his _supply of butterbeer. Bastard.

"How much this fucking _sucks_," He moaned, eliciting another eye-roll from Blaise. "She's probably with Weasley right now, with his slimy ginger hands touching her." He shuddered slightly and Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure it's just his hair that's ginger. Besides, I doubt that will last long, she seems pretty absent from the whole relationship, must be because she's a Veela mate and all," he sipped from his butterbeer casually, regarding Draco with an almost bored expression. "But if I'm honest with you, this whole thing is getting pretty tiring, Draco." He shrugged at the haggard-looking blond, whose eyebrows furrowed.

"What thing?" he sat up, frowning at Blaise, who shifted in his seat.

"This moping stalker-y Draco. It's not you. You're acting like Astoria when she's found a new conquest, except instead of drivelling on about a guy's wealth and 'abs', you're going on about some nonsense to do with how she _chews_," Draco huffed at this "For Salazar's sake mate, stop sulking and be that egotistical bastard that everyone knows and hates," at Draco's scowl Blaise rolled his eyes and added "In a loving way, of course."

Draco crossed his arms and huffed again, but he knew Blaise was right. He was not acting like himself at all. He was acting like a lost puppy instead of the conniving dick everyone is used to. Yeah, he's not exactly as much as a giant wank stain as he used to be, but his usual verve, sarcasm and wit was just wilting away, shying under this miserable whiney Draco his bloody Veela was making him become. Draco's eyes widened at his inner realisation and he groaned.

"Oh, what now?!" Blaise exclaimed, defeated. Draco shook his head.

"You're right, shit you're right I'm becoming a fucking Hufflepuff." He groaned again and Blaise stared disbelievingly at the blond before guffawing loudly.

"Shut the fuck up Zabini, it is _not _funny!" Draco reached for a sofa cushion and threw it at the laughing Italian, scowling.

"Ah yes, this is what I miss, you swearing at me as I have yet again beat you in a game of wits, and accosting me with various items, in this case, a cushion." He smirked at Draco, who rolled his eyes, but there was a flash of amusement.

"Blaise, can you do something for me?" he asked. Blaise raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Well that depends on whether you want me to make you a cup of tea or run naked into the Forbidden Forrest. In one case I'd have to say you're pushing it too far with the tea, mate, I'm not your house elf." Draco snorted and rolled his eyes again, regarding the smug Zabini with amusement.

"Don't worry I won't have you making my tea, you don't even know how I like it you inattentive scumbag," he stuck his tongue out at Blaise, who just grinned, "But seriously, if I become this moping twat again, kill me." Blaise smirked.

"Oh I won't need any prompting for that, my dear Draco. However, if you even want to live past nineteen you're going to have to hurry things up with your lovely Granger, I suggest just telling her she's your mate. It seems she'd be pretty happy to have to break it off with the Weasel, if I'm honest with you." Draco scowled.

"That or she'll avoid me completely or only ever be with me out of a sense of duty." He grumbled. Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah you want to _woo _her. But," he said seriously "She already knows you're a Veela, so if you start putting the moves on her well... she's not exactly stupid now, is she?" Draco groaned dejectedly.

"Well then what can I do?" he asked, frustrated. Blaise took another sip of his butterbeer and for a moment was silent in thought, before his eyes lit up and he grinned excitedly.

"I've got it, she won't realise you're her mate, and she'll be completely head over heels," Draco quirked an eyebrow curiously at Blaise.

"What is it?" he asked. Blaise grinned at him mischievously.

"Two words," he said "Secret," he raised one finger "Admirer." And then another. Draco's eyes widened and he pursed his lips in thought.

"Don't you think it's a bit... _corny_ for Granger?" he asked, cringing slightly, causing Blaise to shake his head, smiling.

"I'm telling you, deep down, Granger is most probably a giant romantic; most girls are." he responded. Draco chewed his lip in thought.

"But what if she doesn't like it? What if she _hates _me because of it? She is _with _someone, after all." Blaise rolled his eyes but grinned at him.

"Then you stop. She won't know it's you; it's called a _secret _admirer for a reason, you know." Draco scowled.

"Don't patronise me, you spew bucket." Blaise laughed.

"Spew bucket, that's new." Draco grinned cockily at him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, can't be using the same old commoner insults now can we?" Blaise rolled his eyes.

"I swear your head is so far up your own arse you're eating shit." Draco smiled innocently.

"And you wouldn't have me any other way."

* * *

Hermione was not having a good time at Hogwarts.

The reasons, however, were completely unexpected. Whereas before she would've worried about whether Draco Malfoy, her partner as Head Boy, would kill her in her sleep, now she was worrying about Ron Weasley, her supposed boyfriend.

The more time she spent with him, the worse she felt. Realising her friends noticed nothing as he pinched her thighs under the table, how she looked ill just from being around him, how she'd stiffen when he sat next to her, was a heavy weight in itself. Harry and Ginny seemed too involved in themselves and too happy for the couple making it work to even care.

As for Malfoy, he had been perfectly polite. He had not called her a Mudblood once, whereas Ron, who defended her in second year against the foul word, called her it at least once a day. She had grown used to it, and was no longer surprised to hear Ron Weasley spit that she was a Mudblood whore. It was getting a bit dull, however, and she was tempted to tell him so. "Mudblood" no longer held the kick it once did. Though she feared letting Ron know that may elicit a round of actual kicks.

In the five weeks since their arrival at Hogwarts, he'd beaten her thrice. Hermione feared the beatings would become more frequent, and even more brutal, but her unexplainable fear of Ron kept her from telling anyone, from seeking help. Ron, ever considerate, hurt her in places easily covered up, and at one point she'd been forced to attempt to heal a broken rib, leaving behind a huge purple bruise.

The only person who'd seemed to notice anything off with her and Ron was, of all people, Malfoy.

Malfoy.

It was weird, how he affected her. His change seemed permanent, and though he was snarky as ever, he was not malicious or prejudiced. He was simply a sarcastic twat on occasion. She liked this change. She liked how he smiled at her, how he seemed to generally care about her well-being, how well they worked together in their duties, how he could hold an intellectual conversation or not complain if she mentioned a book or a fact she found interesting.

He made her feel like she was melting, just by looking at her, it was so strange it was difficult enough for _Hermione_ to believe herself.

The more time spent living in close quarters with Draco Malfoy the more aware she had become of him. He was attractive, there was no denying, and he always had been. But whereas before his vile personality had always made his appearance just that more off-putting, now the unattractive traits had been removed, Hermione simply couldn't stop staring.

It was unfamiliar ground, and she felt out of sorts. Attraction to Draco Malfoy was _weird_, and _wrong_, as was her revulsion of Ronald Weasley. It was like the world had been completely thrown off kilter, and Hermione did _not _like it.

Right now, Ron had threatened her into visiting everyone at the Gryffindor common room, despite the fact that she really did not want to be around him for longer than necessary. Not to mention Harry and Ginny might get suspicious... but did she want them to be? It was all so confusing.

She forced a light smile on her face, and laughed with conversation, keeping the bile from rising as she was ever-aware of Ronald Weasley's arm clutching her tightly to him on the sofa. Every time she tried to pull away, he pinched her firmly. Funny how that was commonplace for her now and how they seemed to get more and more painful as time went on.

The night wore on, and Hermione had barely spoken. Really, she was trying to distract herself and often found herself zoning out of the conversation. Harry didn't really notice but Ginny frowned at her slightly later in the evening.

"Hermione, are you alright? You've been awfully quiet." Hermione had been pulled from her trance as she heard Ginny say her name. She blinked at her before planting a well-practiced smile on her face.

"Oh I'm fine, not to worry, just a bit tired is all, been studying a lot, you know how it is." She said light-heartedly. Ginny studied her a moment more before smiling warmly and shrugging.

"Just over a month into the year and you're already revising yourself into an early grave; you need to relax." The discussion ended with an agreement from Harry and once again Hermione dazed off.

By the time the common room was nearly empty, Hermione zoned back in to notice Harry and Ginny were bidding her and Ron goodnight. Her stomach twisted.

_No, no, no, no, no don't leave me with him oh Godric please no!_

They did not hear her silent plea, as they retreated to Harry's private dorms – an eighth year perk.

Hermione started shaking slightly as she felt move in towards her and she moved to pull away, but his firm grip on her arm held her tight, and she winced, knowing she'll find bruises in the shape of his hand tomorrow morning. He was always bruising her. Marking her. It sickened her.

"Now, now, _pet, _where do you think you're going." He whispered, sickeningly close to her ear. She shuddered in disgust.

"My – my dorms... it's – it's getting quite late and I have to get up early tomorrow so I – can I go please?" she murmured meekly. She was ashamed that she had been reduced to this. Hermione Granger was not _meek_, and yet here she was, unable to look her _friend _in the eye.

"Tomorrow's a Saturday, we can lie in." She didn't miss the "we" and she had to summon all her will-power to keep from vomiting.

"I've got – uh – head girl duties, it's very important, and McGonagall would _slaughter _me if I was late, so I really must be going –" she moved to get up again, and this time Ron let her. Unfortunately, he stood with her, much too close for comfort, his hand still gripping her upper arm tightly.

"If it's really _that _important, pet, I'll walk you to your dorms," he grinned savagely at her "Merlin knows what could happen to a girl on her own in the darkened corridors of late night Hogwarts, don't you agree?"

Hermione silently noted the only person she'd be watching out for would be _him_, but nodded anyhow. She knew he'd never let her leave otherwise. Not to mention if she kept insisting she go alone, he may hurt her again.

Ron grinned at her, his eyes gleaming with malice, and he led her to the portrait hole, where they exited the warmth and relative safety of the common room. Hermione's heart jolted in panic as he kept a tight hold on her and led her through the silent, dark corridors.

Even without wandlight, Ron seemed to know where he was going, which Hermione found odd as she could barely see anything, yet Ron seemed confident enough as he guided her through the dark.

* * *

When she thought he might just be escorting her, and not inflicting any pain, he tugged her arm and roughly pushed her into a classroom, causing her to trip and fall, locking the door and casting a silencing charm behind him. Hermione's throat constricted and she cowered on the wooden floor beneath him.

_Merlin, save me_ _from this monster, bearing the face of my friend. _

She shuffled away from him, trying in vain to get some distance between them. Ron strode over to her and booted her repeatedly in the stomach, his cold unapologetic eyes shining at her in the darkness. She groaned with each impact and he spat on her.

"Fucking Mudblood scum," He hissed, causing her to wince. _This. Is. Not. Ron. _She repeated the mantra in her head as she looked up at Ron. Whoever this person was, it was _not_ Ron Weasley.

"You think you can deny me what I am _owed_?" he continued harshly "Deny me one more time, Mudblood, and I will _take it from you_. I think _next _time, you'll be a bit more _compliant_." He spat his words at her as he continued kicking her, causing her to hunch over in pain.

He snarled at her and stood on her hand, grinning when he heard a _crack_ and she screamed.

"Look at you, right where you belong, on the ground with the rest of the fucking dirt." He spat on her quivering form again. She was clutching her hand to her chest, and tears streaked her cheeks. Sod pride, she was in _pain_.

Without warning, Ron roughly pulled her up by her collar, causing her to squeak. He pushed her up against the wall, gripping her by her neck. He leaned in close to her terrified face with a malicious grin.

"In fact, I rather do hope you deny me again. I would so love to take you as you scream in pain, pleading me to stop. You'll like it eventually, because you're a fucking whore, but how I'd love to steal your innocence." He laughed. He transferred his hand from her neck to her shoulder and leaned in closer, and tugged at the skin of her neck with his teeth, biting down hard so he broke skin. She whimpered.

"Ron, _please_." She pleaded and he pulled back to look at her, a gleam in his eye.

"Ooh the Mudblood speaks. How _quaint_. Haven't you learnt how inferior you are yet? No? Well I guess I better teach you."

And then, breaking the pattern, he punched her in the face, causing blood to spout from her nose. She cried out and he laughed at her.

"_Pathetic._" He hissed, and he punched her again, hitting her mouth this time, splitting her lip. She groaned in pain and he kneed her in the stomach.

Mercifully, he pulled back, and let her fall to the floor. He sneered at her.

"Be grateful, pet, it could have been a lot worse. You should be thanking me for being so merciful."

At that he left her there, in the dark empty classroom, crying silently on the floor.

* * *

Hermione had eventually stopped crying and hurriedly made her way towards her dorms, guided by shaky wandlight.

She had thought Malfoy would've gone to bed by now, and yet, to her dismay, as she entered the common room, it was lit by a lamp and a tired-looking Malfoy resided in an armchair, reading.

She stood in the doorway horror stricken as he glanced up at her. At the sight of her bloodied and bruised face he froze and stared with wide silver eyes. She didn't know what to do but stood stock still like a wild rabbit might under threat.

He rose quickly from the armchair, eyes stormy as he strode towards her. She didn't move as he examined her face. He looked into her eyes, which were wide and fearful. There was no way she could explain this.

"Granger," his voice was soft, but the underlying fury was evident "Who the fuck did this to you?" He was visibly shaken and she blinked before shaking her head slightly, attempting to side-step him.

"No one, Malfoy, I – uh – I fell..." she trailed off, and he growled quietly at her.

"_Fuck _Granger don't _bullshit _me!" he slammed the wall with his palm and she jumped in shock. He looked despairingly at her. "I'm not an _idiot_ just please tell me who did this!" he pleaded with her. She shook her head again, more frantic this time. If she told, he'd kill her, she didn't want to die. She'd just survived a _war _and she wanted to keep going. Draco yelled out in frustration, stepping back from her and running his hand through his hair, looking at her with an expression that was just so _pained_.

He took a deep shuddering breath before he met her eyes with his own molten ones. The looks he was giving her were so intense Hermione just couldn't help but be captivated by them, couldn't help her heart twinge to see him look at her like that.

"Please, Hermione, please tell me who hurt you." She blinked at him as he used her first name. She clutched her broken hand to her chest and smiled sadly at him.

"Who do you think?" she said, voice hoarse and shaky. Malfoy's expression darkened and he searched her face. He growled, an animalistic sound rumbled from the back of his throat. Hermione stared at him, remembering his Veela heritage briefly. Maybe all Veela reacted this way to abuse?

"_Weasley _did this to you?" he said, voice low. Hermione just stared at him. _Ron's going to kill me._

"I'll fucking kill that _slimy _bastard!" he slammed the wall again and yelled out again in anger. Hermione flinched and backed away from him.

"Malfoy, please, don't... he'll kill me please don't – don't do anything –" Hermione pleaded weakly with him. He stared at her and looked disgusted for a second. His expression turned pained as he regarded her.

"He – he hasn't..?" he let the question hang in the air and let Hermione fill in the blanks. She gulped and shook her head. Malfoy sighed in relief.

"But he... he threatens..." she trailed off. Oh Merlin she'd said too much, to someone she doesn't fully trust, and Ron was going to _torture _her for this. Malfoy's jaw clenched and he visibly shook in anger.

"I'm going to fucking kill him." He muttered, mostly to himself. Hermione took a hurried step towards him, wincing in pain. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could Malfoy was looking down on her, studying her intensely.

His fingertips trailed over her split lip, and she winced.

"Fuck, sorry, fuck..." his shoulders slumped and he looked thoughtful for a moment. Hermione didn't move from the close proximity. In a situation most would find intimidating, she found safe. Protected.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again.

"Will you... I... let me heal you, Granger, please." He said softly. Hermione looked up in shock. His anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface but his concern for her wellbeing had temporarily subdued it. She nodded, slightly, and he helped her to the sofa.

With delicate feather light touches, and a concentrated look on his face, Draco Malfoy, of all people, was healing Hermione Granger's cuts and bruises. He finished with her face and had fixed her hand gently, with care. He looked embarrassed for a moment, hesitating. She frowned.

"Malfoy?" he met her eye briefly.

"I – uh – need you to lift your shirt, unless, you know, he didn't... hurt you there?" he looked at her questionably. She flushed slightly.

"Oh right, um, yeah... but... don't get mad." He scowled at her and she winced slightly and lifted her shirt, her face bright red. His expression darkened.

Had her torso not been littered with bright bruising and welts, not to mention what looked to be old scars and bruises, Draco's Veela would have been purring right about now. However, it was raging, urging him to kill whoever did this to his mate.

He swallowed thickly and met her eyes with a murderous expression.

"How long has this been going on?" he said through gritted teeth. Hermione looked away sheepishly. She debated whether it was worth lying, and just decided to be truthful. She worried her newly healed lip and glanced at him warily.

"Since – uh – since the end of summer." His eyes seemed to take on a brighter silver as he glared at her bruised chest. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

_Heal now, kill later. _

Wordlessly, he gently healed the recent bruises with his wand, and Hermione's laboured breathing seemed to ease up, as most of the pain ebbed away.

The silence hung in the air, broken only by the quiet breathing of the two. It was not suffocating, or heavy, but it was noticeable. It was not a comfortable silence, either, it was just silence.

He finished and he pulled her shirt down with a blank expression. He leant back into the cushions of the sofa and sighed. He looked weary and pained. Hermione frowned.

"I wish I could do more." He murmured, in a voice Hermione barely heard. She rested a hand on his arm and he glanced up at her. She smiled slightly at him.

"I think it's safe to say you've done more than enough." Draco smiled sadly at her.

"Why are you with him?" he asked her, in a strained voice. She winced and lowered her head.

"He said he'd kill me if I left," she clenched her jaw and met his eyes "But I'm afraid he has already done so." Hermione hadn't even realised this is what she had been thinking, but now that she thought about it, it was the truth. All he could do now is stop her from breathing, as her spirit, her courage, her fight, had already been crushed.

Draco stared at her intensely before he determinedly clasped her hands in his own.

"Then I guess someone has to resurrect you." She studied him briefly, before he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, and to his delight, she did not pull away.

* * *

**AN: I know she's being a bit dense not realising she's his mate but gah go with it you'd be in denial too if your former enemy was meant to be your soul mate. If I have made any mistakes, please let me know, and I'm sorry if the pacing is a bit slow, but I don't want to rush into things, I personally hate it when Dramione fics have them declaring their love for each other in a matter of a week they've hated each other for years it's not going to go so quickly.**

**I'M SORRY FOR THE RON BASHING I LOVE RON YOU'LL SEE SOON (maybe even next chapter) WHAT I HAVE IN STORE.**

**Thanks to all who have reviewed, favourited, or followed, please let me know what you think of it, everyone loves a bit of feedback for their work.**


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